Hurts like Hell
by PaisleyRose
Summary: What happens when a girl is deprived of her dreams... how does being dreamless change a person... why could our beloved Sarah become...EVIL? And what lengths would one go to to get even with the one who did this? Back with a new chapter....
1. Chapter 1

**Hurts like Hell**

**By **

**Paisley Rose**

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

**Disclaimer:**

**I don't own it, Henson does. Go figure.**

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

**Author's note:**

**Some time ago I read a challenge, and don't ask where because I have no idea of where I read it…. Damn, I digress… I read a challenge to write a story with Sarah being EVIL. I thought to myself that sounds like fun. But to write our favorite heroine as evil one has to give her a reason for going evil…Hence I went back to basics, and I found a good reason. Sarah turned down her dreams to save Toby… So what happens when a person is deprived of dreams… I think this may be one expected outcome.**

**Now, I'm warning you, this is Sarah, going evil…and looking for revenge… and all hell is going to break loose. There will sex, there will be violence, and there will be foul language. So be warned! Now, if you are still game… read on.**

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

**Prologue**

**(Again we start with the end of the AC Smith novel)**

_**"Stop!" Jareth raised the palm of his hand to her. "Wait! Sarah, look -- look what I can offer you." He raised his left arm and made a large gesture with his hand. A glowing crystal ball appeared in it. He spun it around in his fingers, smiled wanly, and said, "It will show you your dreams. You remember." **_

_**She saw the crystal spinning in his fingers, and felt on her lips the warmth of his outstretched hand. She gasped, and, from some inspired recess of her mind, the words came out, blurted out. "You have no power over me." **_

_**"No!" Jareth screamed. Jareth tossed the crystal ball up into the air, where it hovered, a bubble. Sarah looked at it, and saw Jareth's face, distorted, on the shifting, iridescent surface. Gently, it drifted down toward her. She reached out fascinated fingers for it and, as she touched the bubble with her fingertips, it burst. A mist of water atoms floated down the air toward Jareth. **_

_**But she saw that Jareth had disappeared. She heard his voice, for a last time, moaning, "Sarah ... Sarah ..." **_

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Sarah watched the last of her Underground guest leave; she smiled feeling very pleased with herself. She had run the Labyrinth, beaten the Goblin King and won back her brother. Not bothering to change her clothes she collapsed onto the bed, eyes heavy with sleep. "I beat the Goblin King," she mused as her breathing slowed and sleep lulled her. "I won…." Her thirteen hours in the Underground and the last few here Above had sapped her of any energy stores she'd had. She would worry about the time exchanges and the mystical repercussions that would abound some time tomorrow… she vowed to her self as she surrendered her self to the arms of sleep.

The window opened unhurriedly, bit by bit, at a snail's pace. Goblins that had hidden in the dark shadows when the other guests had left slowly crept out of their hiding places. Some gathered round the bed looking at the girl who had gotten the better of their King, their powerful and vengeful King. Slowly the owl flew in not making so much as a little breeze. Moments later, transformed, the man stood beside the bed where the girl lay asleep. He held out a perfect crystal orb the size of an owl egg, as he did the girl with long dark tresses, murmured again that she'd won. His features hardened, "So you think," he murmured in a callous manner, the orb in his outstretched hand beginning to emit a soft glow. The man in the dark garments that reflected no light sneered down at her as he deepened her sleep. "Ah but at what cost, Sarah… at what cost…." He placed the orb to her brow. "I'll take those dreams, my dear… you won't need them now."

The sleeping girl moaned slightly as something filled the orb changing its clear color to something dark and swirling. Once the orb was filled he tucked it back inside his jacket close to his heart. In good spirits, and with the smirk of victory on his face, he knelt beside the bed of the creature who boasted to herself of besting the Goblin King. His long leather clad fingers caressed her face as he leaned over her until his face was a breath from hers. "Oh what could have been vixen," his voice grew feral, sinister and full of threatening evil. "Alas…twas not to be, my dark angel… and I will live with the regrets and your… _**dreams**_." His lips moved over hers, capturing her first kiss. He lifted his face from hers, a sinister and ominous gleam in his eyes. "Hear me Sarah Williams; you will not be able to clearly remember your time in the Labyrinth. It will seem like a story you made up…a tale to entrain the boy… the rest will become a distant fading memory…and you will have trouble recalling what you lost." One last kiss did he bestow before chuckling darkly and vanishing from her room.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

**Chapter 1. The change in Sarah**

**Late summer 1986**

The morning after the big storm, Sarah awoke to a pounding headache. She wondered if this was how someone felt after a drunk, made a mental note not to ever over imbibe. Even the hot shower she took didn't help. After dressing she joined the family in the kitchen for the usual Sunday morning brunch that Karen insisted upon making. Taking one look at the quiche, Sarah moaned something about not being hungry and placed her throbbing head on the table. Toby in his high chair giggled as if he knew a private joke.

Robert looked up from his morning paper and with a roll of his eyes, thinking he was glad the teen years were far behind him returned to the news. Karen at first seemed miffed, but something about the girl's behavior gave her pause. Having never been on good terms with her stepdaughter, Karen hesitated offering help. "Sarah, do you need something? A cold towel, asprin?"

Sarah slowly turned her eyes toward the woman. "Yeah, I think that might help…. My head is pounding."

Karen not only made sure the girl had the tablets that might ease the pain, but also fixed her a cup of herbal tea and some dry toast. When Robert had carried the baby up to bathe and dress him, Karen looked at Sarah with compassion. "Did you have trouble sleeping?"

"I don't know," Sarah answered a bit more aggressively than she'd intended. "I know I slept, but I sure don't feel rested."

Karen tapped the paper that Robert had abandoned on the table. "That was some storm last night wasn't it?" She showed Sarah the front page pictures of devastation all over town. "Trees falling over knocked down some of the power lines."

"Power went out here for a bit," Sarah said in a monotone voice.

"Did it, I didn't know that." Karen answered. "You poor kid, that must have scared you."

Sarah studied the woman, decided she was trying to be congenial and parental. "It was pretty hairy when I couldn't get the lights to go on, yeah… but we weathered it." She sipped a bit more of the tea. "Thanks for not making me eat the quiche… I don't think it would have stayed down."

"Not a problem," Karen assured her. "I was young once too you know."

"Sure you were," the girl teased feeling a bit more relaxed by the herbs in the tea. "When was that exactly?"

Karen snickered, "Sarah, I think that's the first time you've ever teased me." She stood up and cleared the dishes off the table. "Are you excited about school starting a few weeks?"

"Not really," Sarah stretched out her long legs under the table and sighed. "I should be but I'm not." She ate a bit more of the toast she'd been playing with.

"Would you like to go shopping this week for school clothes and supplies?" Karen asked as she loaded the dishwasher. "We could have a girls day, lunch on me."

Sarah shrugged; she knew the other was offering an olive branch. "Yeah, why not…but if it's a girl's day, what are we going to do with Toby?"

"Mrs. Morgan next door asked for him to come and have a play date with her little Tommy… we'll go right after I drop him off… is tomorrow too soon?" Karen wiped down the counters and set the kitchen to rights. She had a thing about making it look like a page out of Better Homes and Gardens.

"Great," Sarah said with out much elation.

Karen didn't take offense, she could see by the girl's features she was suffering with that pounding headache. "Why don't you just rest today, kick back, read a book… do whatever you like." She came back to the table.

The girl who had been so resentful of this woman's interference now looked at her with reflection. "Karen, I know you're trying to be nice… and I do appreciate it."

Karen put a smooth hand over Sarah's. "You're not my blood, but you are my daughter, and I do care… you look like you're in a lot of pain." Her tone was soft, sympathetic and measured. "Is there anything I can do to make it better?"

"Could you slice my head open and empty out what's causing this?" Sarah asked when the woman made a face the girl smiled, "I didn't think so. No, the tea and the tablets helped."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

True to her promise, Karen took Sarah shopping the next day. Sarah's head ache was gone but she didn't look rested. Karen put it down to the fact that the girl had been under the weather and it would take time for her to be back to her old bouncy self. The first stop after dropping Toby off was at the high school to pick up the books that were on early order for Sarah and the supplies list for her classes. They paid her fees and book bill and bought her a new gym uniform as well as a new school blazer. They located the locker that had been assigned to Sarah and put the books and supplies they'd bought in the school bookstore inside.

Karen noticed that several of the students who seemed to know Sarah didn't make an effort to even say so much as hello to her. She made no mention of it, as Sarah was being more than civil to her. However she made a metal note of the situation.

Leaving the school behind, they drove over to the sprawling mall outside of town. One thing that both agreed on was they were glad the town was still as it had been forever. There were no buildings taller than four floors, no modern glass and chrome edifices. It was a quaint little town, with charm and grace that was being swallowed up in other little towns to be replaced by cold modernism. The Town council had turned down an offer to turn one track of land into a mall. They preferred to keep the down town area small and unique. Instead they had made arrangements for the mall to be built outside of town.

Sarah was surprised when Karen had suggested the upscale shop of Lambert's instead of Penny's. Lambert was the kind of store Sarah would expect Linda, her mother, to patronize. She knew that Karen shopped in better shops as well; after all she was the wife of a rising attorney and she was expected to make a statement. Sarah was use to buying things that were a bit less sheshe, her usual garb being a comfortable pair of jeans and a poet's shirt and waistcoat vest. Karen was looking at some of the junior styles and asked Sarah what she thought. Sarah had never really credited Karen with a sense of style, but now had to re-evaluate. The woman had picked out things that were not only in fashion, but would look fabulous on Sarah. From skirts to stunning pant suits, the older woman would pick something and say it would be great on.

"Karen," Sarah asked as she stood looking at one casual outfit in the three way mirror. "How is it you know so much about fashion and style and yet dress so…"

"Conservative?" Karen suggested as she sat looking at her stepdaughter from a chair. "Sarah I wasn't always a wife and mother," She snickered. "I used to be young once."

"But you dress so… boring." Sarah turned and looked at the woman.

Patiently the older woman stood up and pointed to the mirror. "Look again, Sarah… this time look without being partial. Look again."

At first Sarah saw what she'd seen since the day Karen had invaded her world. A woman whose sense of style could not match her own flamboyant mother's. Linda would never be caught dead in that skirt, no matter how well made it was. And yet, Sarah had to admit, the skirt did fit the other nicely. "What am I supposed to be seeing?" she asked at last.

"Clean lines, classic…. If you will. Well made, and perfectly fitted." Karen motioned with her hands. "Notice, also everything is coordinated." She pointed to her low healed shoes and then her purse. "The way I dress is appropriate for the wife of a lawyer."

"But my mother doesn't dress like this," protested Sarah.

Karen placed a hand on Sarah's right shoulder. "Your mother is an actress, and dresses to be noticed. She is a fashion plate, and done up right. She dresses for success." The words were true, unvarnished but not nasty.

Sarah looked at Karen and as if a light bulb had gone on in her head nodded. "You dress to be supportive, not upstaging."

"Precisely," Karen said with a satisfied smile. "That does not mean I don't like the flash and flare, it means I choose when and where." She turned Sarah to face the mirror. "You however are young, fresh and free…. And should dress that way… within reason."

"I like my old clothes," Sarah gave Karen a sideways glance. "I love my old shirt and vest…and …"

"And you should keep them, the jeans too." Karen said firmly. "I just want to add a few things to your… closet. Some age appropriate outfits, things you can wear to school functions and maybe a date or two." She lowered her voice, "I do think you should date.."

"We'll see." Sarah said looking at the pair of reflections looking back.

Bolstered by her reception of suggestions, Karen gave the girl and affectionate hug. "It's just the beginning of sophomore year; you've got three years of high school left. Plenty of time for dates and parties and everything you've ever dreamed of."

After Lambert's they moved on down to a stylish boutique that catered to the younger crowd. Karen permitted Sarah to do the picking and choosing here, making only minor suggestions. Then on to a shoe store, and lunch at the expensive restaurant that was part of the Marshall Chain.

Sarah watched as Karen spoke to the materdee, she credited that even Linda could not have handled the man as well. Soon they were seated at a lovely table for two next to the wonderful windows that looked out no the expensively kept roof garden. "I didn't think you'd want to eat outside in the heat," Karen said unfolding her linen napkin. "Would you like an aperitif?"

"Fifteen, remember?" Sarah asked.

"Not all aperitifs are alcoholic!" Karen informed her stepdaughter. "I happen to like cranberry juice with sparkling water. Would you like to try one?"

"Sure."

Lunch was an unexpected pleasure; Karen spoke to the girl as if they were friends, not long time foes. She completed Sarah on her purchases and asked questions about the classes she'd chosen. When ever Linda's name came up, Karen didn't give in to name calling or being brittle, but gave several complements to the girl's mother.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Hours later, when the house was quiet and the children in their beds sleeping, Robert sat watching Karen brush her now unpinned hair. "How did it go?" He asked lightly. He was aware that Karen was making another effort to win over his daughter.

"It went well," Karen said continuing to brush her hair. "I think she knows now that I'm not trying to replace Linda."

"As if anyone could," Robert murmured as he lounged on the bed. He looked over at Karen, "You've always been so understanding about Linda, I wonder if you are being… mistreated by me."

Karen whipped the brush though her hair. "Don't be silly Robert," she said calmly. "I knew what I was getting into… and what I was going to get out of it. I've a husband I love and respect, a home and children…it's all I ever dreamed of."

He looked at her sheepishly; "Such simple dreams."

Karen looked over at him, "Sarah is basically a good kid, even if she's not been receptive to me up until now." She sighed going back to her brushing. "I just worry that she's spent too much time with her nose in those books of hers. This is the time when she should be starting to date."

"Hence the new outfits that are costing a small fortune?" Robert teased watching her long strawberry blond hair. "Leave it down tonight." He requested with a smile.

Complying with his request she placed the brush back on the table. "You can well afford a few dollars on good clothes for the children… think of it as an investment in their futures." She dropped the robe from her shoulders and joined her husband on his bed. "You told me when we got married that you wanted something stable for Sarah, and yourself. You told me to fix the house, and give you a real home again… Well helping Sarah is part of that, a few dollars on clothes…"

"Is fine," he said taking her face into his hands. "Karen, I may never feel for you what I did for Linda, but you are my wife, and I love and respect you."

"I love you too, Robert." She moved forward to kiss him softly. "Things will be better now… I just know it."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Dark shapes moved silently in the dim light of the bedroom. Snickers, jeers and hissing noises accompanied the shapes as they shuffled about. Big bulging eyes watched as the girl slept in dreamless sleep.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

The weeks had gone by, and Sarah was standing before her mirror preparing for the first day of class. She could hear her father calling up to shake a leg as he didn't need to be late to the office. How she hated that term, shake a leg. She muttered to herself about it as she dressed in the school blazer as was required for the first day of classes. The blazer was required on special days, and first day was considered one of them.

She was glad the head aches of the last two weeks seemed to be abating. The last thing she needed was a head ache on the opening day of school. School itself was going to be enough of a trial. Karen had made arrangements for Sarah to be on the bus after classes as her father would drive her to the high school that was only two blocks from his office in the heart of town. It wasn't all that far to walk, but Sarah was grateful for the thought. In bad weather she knew she'd be even more grateful.

Karen wished her a good day at the door, holding Toby who held his hands out to his sister to be taken from Karen's arms. "Not to day, squirt." Sarah kissed the baby and waved to Karen, saying over her shoulder that she planned on coming straight home.

"You don't want to go to Nick's Ice Cream after school with the rest of the kids?" Karen knew the rest of the kids would be heading to the little parlor and milling in the park this first day.

"Nope," Sarah said disinterested.

"Alright," Karen said watching her from the porch. "I'll have some tea ready for you when you get here… Have a good day, dear."

Sarah was not sure if that last statement had been for her, or her father, or both. She belted herself into the seat and sat quietly as her father drove toward the school. An irritability that she could not shake seemed to be filling her. The only time she didn't feel it was when she was with her parents and Toby at home. She dreaded this first day, and was not sure why. Something in her was nagging at her, and she felt on edge.

Her father had left her off in front of the school, wished her a good day and drove off toward his office. Sarah looked up at the front façade of the older building. It had what Karen would call classic lines, and sweeping style. The manicured lawns, the topiaries and the carefully maintained gardens gave the school the appearance of being something special. Sarah felt a snicker lodge in her throat as she gazed at all the students in their matching blazers. "What a bunch of automatons. " She said aloud as she moved up the steps toward the front doors. There was about fifteen minutes until the first bell, and most of the students who were not freshmen were greeting school friends after the long summer. Sarah didn't bother, as there was really few she cared to greet. She headed to her locker, placed her purse on the shelf as she pulled the books and notebook she'd need for her first class.

"Oh look who's here girls," a voice that was a little too sharp and high pitched sounded just on the other side of the hall. Its owner was Marion Walsh, a fellow classmate who didn't care for Sarah. She'd been in the same classes with Sarah since the days before Linda had left. She and her clique had always enjoyed tormenting Sarah over the fact that her mother had just up and left, leaving her to deal with the rumors. Marion and her gaggle of cheeping hens loved to stir up the rumors with each new school year. "Why if it isn't the daughter of the famous whore actress, Linda Williams…" There were snickers and jeers. "What, not joining mommy on the casting couches yet Sarah?"

In past years Sarah had fought tears, held her head high and walked away. Today, with the dull ache that had been plaguing her for weeks, Sarah turned looked at Marion with scorn and said loudly. "_**Fuck off little Mary Sunshine**_." She slammed her locker closed and started to walk toward her fist class.

Marion's mouth dropped. Her reaction was mirrored by those around her. Carol Lansford turned to her with disbelieve. "Did you hear what I heard?" The other girl asked.

Judy Bole shook her head, "I don't believe it."

"You can't let her get away with that, Marion." Warned Gale Finster.

Only Jean Davis seemed to be worried. "Let it go, Marion…" she tugged at the arm of the girl with spun gold curls. "Just let it go."

Marion however was not about to let it go. Marion was the most popular girl on campus, and not about to allow the upstart to demean her. She rushed forward and grabbed Sarah's arm sending the books Sarah was holding flying across the hall. "See here you!"

Cold fury filled the green eyes, she looked down at the hand gripping her arm. "Move it or lose it." She warned in a dark and dangerous voice.

Marion either had not heard the order or chose to ignore it. "I will not be talked to in that insolent manner you little …" Before she could finish her threatening sentence Sarah had her pinned against the lockers on the opposite wall.

"Here me, and hear me good," sneered the dark force that held the blond. "Don't you ever touch me again!"

A shape whistle blew and the pair was hauled down to the dean's office at the end of the hall.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Robert had been shocked when the call came into his office. Sarah was in the principal's office of her high school; there had been a fight and Sarah had started it he was being told. He and his wife were being asked to come in for a meeting right away. He made excuses to his partners and gave orders to his secretary that he was not to be disturbed. Calling home he told Karen to call Mrs. Morgan next door and meet him at the high school.

Sarah sat without expression; Marion on the other hand was playing up the injured party route while awaiting her parents. Marion wondered if she could get Sarah suspended on the very first day of classes. When her parents showed up she ducked into her father's overly protective arms while he scowled at Sarah.

Robert and Karen, having met on the stairs coming up the front of the school entered as a united front. Robert heard the dark threats being made to his daughter by Marion's father Lionel Walsh. He cleared his throat and the man backed off. Robert looked over, worried he'd see Sarah looking like a beaten down waif. Instead what looked back up at him was a cold fury. He smiled at her, "Sarah." He said taking a seat. Karen also took a seat while the Walsh's took theirs.

Mr. Johnson, the principal for the school looked at the parents rather than the girls. "I thank you for coming in. This being the first day of classes I had not expected trouble." He turned a slightly unhappy eye on Sarah. "However I will not allow student to brawl in the halls."

Walsh leaned forward, placing a comforting hand on his daughter's shoulder. "I demand that you protect my daughter form this kind of harassment." Lionel demanded thinking he was in the right, as he always thought he was in the right. "I won't have this hooligan laying hands on my daughter."

Not bothering to look at father or daughter, Sarah said clearly, coldly and calculatedly; "Then you'd best tell her to keep her hands to her self first."

Robert felt the curling at the corner of his lip; however he kept his features schooled. A surge of pride at seeing Sarah refuse to be a doormat filled him. He quietly listened.

"I did not!" Marion denied boldly.

"Do we have to sit though this kind of slander?" Lionel demanded.

Mr. Johnson looked at Marion, giving her a chance to speak up, when she didn't he said quietly; "We have security cameras in the halls now."

Marion still didn't back down, perhaps because what he said didn't register. "I have witnesses to her attacking me." She stood up. "I think you should suspend anyone who behaves this way."

"You do?" Mr. Johnson asked with a slight smirk. "Really?"

"Yes," Marion said crossing her arms and giving her curls a toss.

Sarah had heard, and was watching the principal's cat and mouse act. She glanced over at the other girl and wondered why it was she was not listening.

"Well then," He motioned for everyone to look at the screen of the television that was sitting beside his desk. He raised the remote slowly, giving Marion one more chance to change her story. She didn't. Moments later, after the audio of the video was heard her face changed. He turned the set off and looked at Marion. "Still think someone needs to be suspended?"

Marion sat down dumbfounded.

Sarah looked over at her and frowned, "I don't want her suspended."

"I'm not looking for charity!" Marion snapped her face ashen at being caught up in her lie.

Sarah turned back toward the principal; "You're not getting any. I just want to be left alone." She addressed the man. "You suspend her and it will make a martyr of her… I don't need that."

Robert gave Karen a wink, she kept her face schooled.

Mr. Johnson nodded, "Miss Walsh, consider this your first warning." He watched her carefully. "Mr. Walsh I suggest you and your wife discuss this with her this evening at home. Young ladies you may go to class." He also dismissed the Walsh parents. "I will be sending home a note, and this goes on her record." He looked at the Williams'. "I'd like a word with you, Robert." Robert nodded and stayed seated. Sarah left he room first, picking up her books and heading to her locker to get the books for the up coming class. Marion was escorted out by her father and mother.

Johnson leaned on the desk. "I'm not sure whether to be relieved or not here." He commented quietly. "This is the first time I've ever seen Sarah stand up for herself." He opened the records that were kept on each student. "Her middle school reported that she was something of a victim after her mother's leaving."

"She was?" Robert appeared surprised. "She certainly didn't act a victim at home."

Karen looked at him in shock. "Of course she did, that's why she's been acting out for the past few years." Karen looked at the principal. "Has she been tormented by girls like that all along?"

"Yes, but this was the first time she stood up for herself." The man said. "And while I'm glad to see that spark, I'm worried as well." He pointed to the video. "This time I was able to prove she was the victim… I may not be so lucky in the future…. I am going to have both girls spend some time with anger counseling. But not with the same councilors, it that's alright with you." The parents nodded.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Two weeks later Sarah was called out of study hall and escorted down to the office of one of the schools councilors. The door read Doctor James Phalanx, but when she tapped lightly it was answered by a younger man than the one who was listed on the door. "Hello, you must be Sarah Williams," the man extended his hand. "I'm Andrew Crowley; I'm taking over for Doctor Phalanx."

Sarah looked at him, he young and fresh, and most likely fresh from some university. Not near her father's age perhaps only six to seven years older than herself. He was taller than she, but a good seven to eight inches, and built like a linebacker. His hair was full, wavy and a rather frightful shade of red. His blue eyes sparkled wildly. "You're a shrink?" she asked unflatteringly.

"Good God, no," He muttered pleasantly. "I'm only a counselor of human behavior and not a doctor of psychiatry." He motioned her to come in. "Please be seated."

"No couch?" She mused.

"As I said, I'm a counselor… I'm not going to act as an analyst," He pointed to a pair of chairs, comfy old arm chairs, with a table between them. "I'm here to help with anger issues and such."

"Oh," she took a seat and set her books aside. "That should prove motivating and worthy of note." Her sarcasm was saturating her words.

Crowley took a seat opposite her and leaning on his elbow looked at her as if they were old friends meeting for the first time in many a year; "How so?" Sarah, not sure of his intentions gave him the cold fish stare. His reaction was a hearty chuckle. "Really, Miss Williams, I promise you I am not the enemy." He offered her a cup of tea. "I'm here to help you deal with the incident of two weeks ago. I've reviewed the tape, and while I can not fault you, I'd like to understand the reactions to Miss Walsh's taunts."

Giving the request thought Sarah answered, "Marion and I have history." She sipped the tea. "Not good history, but history." Pulling out a note pad, he nodded for her to continue. "I've been in classes with her ever since my mother left my father."

"Was that a problem?"

"Not for me," Sarah said quietly; "Just for every small minded busy body in town. And Marion Walsh and her friends are the smallest of minds here abouts."

Crowley tapped his chin. "I heard the audio of the video…. She was rather nasty about you and your mother."

"I put it down to small town jealousy." Sarah shrugged, "Marion and her crowd are, insignificant in the larger scheme of things."

"Then why react to her at all?" Crowley asked leaning forward, as if he really cared.

"I got tired of putting up with her bullshit and going home in tears." Sarah commented coolly.

"And should it happen again?"

Sarah shrugged, "I'll deal with what happens, when it happens."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

In October, just before Homecoming, Sarah was sent to Crowley's office again. This time it was Carol Lansford, both girls were barred from attending the dance. It was more punishment for Carol who was actually dating. Both were sent to see the councilors, again Crowley was selected to see Sarah.

"Well, Miss Williams, hello." He greeted her warmly as she tapped at his door.

"We meet again," she mused.

"What happened?" He asked as she took her seat.

"Carol Lansford grabbed my wrist and would not release it without being persuaded." Sarah settled into the chair. "So I backed her into the chem lab table and offered to introduce her to a Bunsen burner."

"Would you have?" He asked amused.

"I just might have," Sarah admitted.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Two months later, it was an incident with Judy Bole that sent her to Crowley. He opened the door, found her standing there with a green slip of paper in her hand. He read it over and motioned her to come in. "Miss Williams," He addressed her civilly as he read. When she was seated he looked at her, waiting for her to explain herself this time.

"Judy Bole," she said evenly.

"What happened?"

"She took my homework and tossed it out the window," Sarah smiled suddenly. "So I offered to send her out the window after it."

"This says you had her hanging out the window…" He showed her the slip of paper.

"Only halfway…." Sarah said with mock regret.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

When classes resumed in the new year, Sarah thought the "in" crowd would leave her alone, she was mistaken. They waited until just before the Valentines dance, and then they struck again. This time it was Gail Finster's turn to torment the other girl. When Sarah showed up at the door Crowley looked at her in surprise and asked. "Sarah, what now?"

Sarah shook her head, "I'm on the hit list." She snapped peevishly.

"Who and what this time?" He asked pouring her tea.

"Gail Finster, broke into my gym locker and ripped up my uniform… and had the nerve to deny it even as the instructor was telling her they had it on tape…" Sarah's hands were shaking, "Is that herbal?" she pointed to the tea.

"I only drink herbal," assured the man.

"Good because I'm on pins and needles and the last thing I need is caffeine." Sarah took a long deep drink.

"So why are you here, it seems that Finster would be the one with one of us councilors."

Sarah took another long drink before answering; "She is… she's with what's her name…" she snapped her fingers having forgotten the other councilor's name. "I'm here because Gail tried to trip me in class, and I snapped and shoved her back."

"Dear me," he commented quietly. "They do seem to bring out the worst in you, don't they?"

"It's not just them…" Sarah admitted readily. "It's everyone and everything."

"You seem quite calm now…" He pointed out.

"The tea helps, and you." Sarah offered him a weary smile. "You don't set my teeth on edge."

Crowley inclined his head in a means of thanking her. "Tell me Sarah, how are things at home?"

"Fine," she said coolly. "My step mother and I are getting along better."

Once more he was making notes, he looked at her, "Sarah are you getting enough sleep? You don't look very rested."

"I sleep… but I don't rest." She stated. "Been that way for months now."

"Bad dreams?" He asked taking a note.

"No, no dreams… good or bad." She said taking another sip of tea.

Crowley looked up, his face concerned. "What did you just say?"

Sarah set her teacup aside. "No dreams, good or bad."

"How long has this been going on?" He asked coming forward and looking at her eyes.

"Months…why?"

He moved to the book shelf, pulled a book and nodded. "Sarah, I'd like for you to see a sleep specialist I know of… today if possible." He moved to the phone and dialed a number. "Mrs. Williams, Andrew Crowley… yes... again… I'd like Sarah to see a sleep doctor this afternoon if I can get her in to his schedule." The arrangements were made and Karen took Sarah over to the clinic.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Sarah looked at the cot they were asking her to lie down on. She frowned. "It looks like a hospital bed."

"This is a sleep clinic," the one technician stated gently. "The bed is standard." He placed electrodes on the girl. "Just relax, and forget it's a hospital bed." He suggested.

"Easy for you." She muttered taking her place on the cot. "Now what?"

"Go to sleep," the woman said shrugging.

Andrew Crowley joined Karen and Robert in the observation room. "I'm sorry I'm so late," he said quietly. "I was in with another student. Has she gone to sleep yet?"

"She's just falling asleep now," the tech said watching the screen for readings. "She should reach REM in ten minutes." Ten minuets passed, then twenty, and then two hours, no REM was achieved. The Tech looked at another Tech and both began writing notes. The girl was awakened the next morning and her parents came to the clinic to pick her up. Another session was planned for the weekend when Sarah would be able to stay at the clinic for more tests.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

By the time May rolled around Sarah was thoroughly fed up with the clinic and the endless tests. It was no surprise when Marion, Judy and Gail ganged up on her in the girls gym and no surprise when Sarah pounded the living daylights out of all three. What was a surprise was when Margret Cully the other councilor suggested that Sarah be removed from the school as she was a threat to the other students.

Crowley met with Mr. Johnson. "This is ridicules," he protested on Sarah's behalf. "Those girls have targeted Sarah from the start."

"I agree…but each of them have only one strike against them." Johnson tossed the reports down. "And Sarah …"

"Has been targeted," repeated Andrew. "With what has been discovered at the clinic I'd have to say it's amazing she not snapped before this…."

"What is her condition called?" Johnson pinched his nose.

"It's a Parasomnia disorder." Crowley handed him the clinics findings. "She's not achieving REM…"

"And that's important?"

"Of course," the councilor explained. "Everybody has some kind of REM… it's in this state we dream… and Sarah for some reason is no longer able to… achieve this. She sleeps and her body gets rest, but her mind does not…."

"And you say this is what is causing her to be…. Perceived as aggressive?" When the other nodded the principal sighed. "It's a catch twenty two… if I side with Sarah I'll be seen as not caring for the rest of the students…and if I side against her… It's not fair." He looked at the councilor. "Is there some sort of medical treatment for this?"

"Prescriptions are in the early stages of trial."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

One week before the end of the school year, Robert and Karen were called in again to the office. Sarah had held a nail file to the throat of another student. It was strongly suggested that Sarah needed some kind of help.

Crowley met with the family in private. "I know of a school where Sarah can get help with her anger issues due to her condition. It's called St. Ambrose School for Exceptional Young Ladies." He pulled out the brochure.

Sarah looked at the flyer over her parents' shoulders. "It's a reform school." She said coldly.

Crowley looked up at her. "Sarah, it's the best we can do."

"And the meds they want me on? Will they fix the problem?" She asked her eyes like hot burned out coals.

"We don't know," he answered honestly. "Honey we know this is not your fault."

Robert looked up at his daughter who more and more was looking like a shadow of herself. "You don't have to… we can get a teacher to come to the house…."

"No." Sarah said quietly. "I'll go."

Karen looked at her, "This stinks!"

Sarah snickered, "I can think of worse things…" she mused. 'Like falling into the bog of stench…' she shrugged. "Do I get a new councilor?"

"Yes, but I want you to keep that journal you started... And if you need me… for anything…" Andrew passed her a business card.

Sarah smiled, "I'll call."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2. St. Ambrose hell…**

Summer had been long, hot and lonely as Sarah had been exiled to her mother's place in New York to keep her from contact with the rest of the kids who had been her classmates. Rumors flew like little paper planes after Sarah departed. One rumor had her three months pregnant. Another had her having been accused of having been found taking drugs, and the most damning was one started by Marion. She had Sarah going on the rampage and doing bodily damages to her own poor defenseless little brother.

Karen had been livid when she'd heard from Mrs. Morgan what was being said. Mrs. Morgan told her she didn't for a moment believe a word of it, not a word. However she felt it was better she should know about it so they could warn or protect Sarah from further fallout. Robert had called Sarah and told her, feeling the best protections were full knowledge. What he had not anticipated was how hurt the girl would feel.

Linda sat with her on the terrace of her apartment looking at the night sky after the call from Robert telling Sarah of the horror stories being passed about. The actress was enjoying the long visit, and she was glad that her new role on a weekly evening soap was giving them lots of quality time. She sipped a glass of iced tea as they sat staring at the sky. Sarah was just about to take her evening medication and Linda asked quietly what it was. Sarah handed her the bottle of tablets and shrugged. "It's supposed to help with the sleep disorder."

Looking at the label her mother frowned deeply, forgetting how it would crease her face. "I see, is this your father's idea?" her voice was cold and cruel. "Or was it Karen's?"

"No," Sarah said taking the pills back. "The sleep clinic prescribed these… to help me sleep…."

A strangely far away look came over Linda. "I was on pills…once…" She grabbed the bottle away from Sarah. "I don't like pills…. They take over your life and cloud things up…." She fought to control an emotion that seemed ready to sweep her away. "Sarah, I'd like to take you to my herbalist."

Sarah shrugged; "Why not."

Linda pocketed the container of pills. "No more of these… okay?"

"Sure, Mom, anything you say." Sarah leaned back, not expecting any better results from the herbs as had come from the pills…she would sleep… but dreams, even daydreams seemed to be becoming foreign to her.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Lin Cho bowed to Linda with a respectful smile when he opened the door of his herbal shop. "Welcome Miss Williams." He led her to the counter. "Your order is ready."

"Thank you Lin, this is my daughter Sarah. I was wondering if you'd have something to help her..." Linda stood at the counter and spoke as one whom was completely relaxed.

Sarah looked at the man who was observing her carefully. He looked at Linda and nodded, "Please be seated, and I'll examine your hair and nails…"

Linda motioned her to take a seat, and as she did Sarah looked about the establishment. If she'd not known she was in New York, she'd have sworn she was in old Canton. In one corner at a low table sat an elderly man making a drawing on parchment. She watched his smooth graceful sweeping motions while the proprietor examined her sculp. He spoke to Linda while Sarah could not take her eyes off the old man. When Lin Cho finished, he began a discussion with Linda, Sarah scooted off her chair and wandered over to watch the older man paint. He looked up at her with the calmest eyes and most tranquil expression she'd ever witnessed. "It's beautiful," Sarah pointed at his painting.

"It is," the man agreed.

"What is it?" she asked politely.

The elderly man looked back down at the painting asking; "What do you see?" His voice was low and he spoke in a very composed and peaceful pace. He looked back at Sarah with soft eyes.

Sarah looked at the painting from another angle, "I see…a bird… a sort of crane thing, being chased by a dragon."

The old one looked down, cocked his head to one side, put down his brush and stood up. "Then that is what it is." He said slowly. "I am Li Po, and you?"

"Sarah, Sarah Williams." She said respectfully, she looked at where her mother was speaking to Lin Cho. "Linda Williams is my mother; I wonder what's taking so long."

"Fate," Li Po stated calmly. "Come let me read the I Ching for you." He led Sarah to a side stand and handed her what looked like a bunch of sticks. "Sake them and let them drop. I will read what they say."

"Sure," Sarah scoffed softly. "And I suppose these will tell you all about me."

"Humor an old man." He entreated.

Sarah felt odd, but did as he requested. She shook the sticks in her hand and then let them fall where they would. Li Po raised his glasses on his nose and began to study the pattern. He stopped and looked at the girl with a sad expression. "I wish it was a better fortune."

"It's bad news?" Sarah asked quietly. "Just what I need, more… Okay… shoot." She thought she'd braced herself, that she was ready. She was wrong.

"You have fought a great battle, and you thought you won… and to a point you did." Li Po pointed to a portion of the spread of sticks, "But you also lost, Sarah Williams, in winning what you sought, you lost your dreams."

Sarah gasped, looked toward her mother who was still speaking to the owner. "How do you know this?"

"It is as clear as what you saw in the painting." The elder motioned for Sarah to be seated. "You have fought what you thought was a demon… and to some extant it was… However winning cost you…a high price."

Sarah looked at the old one, "I can't dream."

"You can not dream." He repeated knowingly. "The herbs my son is going to give you will help you sleep...it is called… An Mien Pian; An Mien Pian helps your mind overcome occasional feelings of stress allows your body to get the rest it deserves. It will not however restore your dreams…they are gone." He was sad, but remained calm. Reaching over he rolled up the parchment he'd painted and handed to Sarah. "For you…"

"I don't have any money…." Sarah put her hands up to refuse. "I can not buy it…it's too precious."

"I would not take money for this, if it were offered." He said in that slow and considered way he had of speaking. "Consider it, a gift." The Elder placed the painting into her hands. "Perhaps one day you will see more in it, than just a bird being chased by a dragon." He placed a hand on her shoulders. "You've a long journey ahead, and it will not be easy or fun… hard times face you now, perhaps the painting will give you a measure of peace."

"Thank you," Sarah whispered.

Bowing the old one said one more thing to her before she left. "If the wind comes from an empty cave, it's not without a reason." As he spoke to her, he placed his hand on hers. "Think on it." He patted her hand as if she were one of his own to whom he was imparting some special gift of knowledge.

"Thank you… Master Li Po…. I'll remember."

Lin Cho saw his father speaking to the younger woman, he said something to Li Po in their own dialect, and when answered looked sadly at the girl. However what ever the elder said was kept between the two. Linda thanked Lin Cho, paid for the herbs and motioned Sarah that it was time to leave.

Lin Cho turned to his father. "You read the I Ching for the girl?"

"I did," replied the elder.

"And?"

The old one, with sad eyes murmured. "I pity the demon…" Quietly he moved back to his low table, knelt down and placed a fresh parchment on the top to begin a new painting.

Linda had the painting framed for Sarah with bamboo, and it was placed in the room where Sarah slept. Under it on a little brass plaque was the verse that Li Po had told the girl. She took the herbs and found while Master Li had been right and they didn't return the dreams, she was at least sleeping better. The herbs allowed her body to rest, if not her mind.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Jareth sat alone in the darkness of the stair room, his personal puzzle and his place of solitude. He had designed this room when he'd first become King, and now it served as his personal hell. It was here the girl had denied him and his offer, so it was only right that it was here that he would view what she'd turned down.

Lounging on one of the sets of downward stairs, he held the glowing little orb up to view one of the many dreams that were trapped within. It never ceased to amuse him how many different dreams the orb contained. Or the way they changed and shifted. In the first days after he'd acquired the dreams, he had tried to catalog them. He soon found it was impossible, if there were one thing to be said for the original owner, it was she had no limits where her dreams had been concerned. Yet time and again in the days since he'd harvested the dreams, he went again and again to the one dreamed he'd already shared with her. Each time hopeful it would play out differently and to his bitter disappointment, it never did.

At first he amused himself with the dreams in the throne room, however the constant interruptions didn't allow for complete viewing. That and the Goblins were far too prying and wanted to view as well. For reasons he could not name, he found himself guarded about the girl's dreams, and wanted to keep them to himself. It had taken a bit of swallowing of ones own pride, but the price had been worth it. Here in the room of endless stairs, endless possibilities and endless choices, he had perfect seclusion. No Goblin worth his salt would venture into the chamber without good reason. No courtier had ever dared to come into this chamber uninvited, as this part of the castle was too close to the King's own apartment. Only family had ever come this far… Family and Sarah.

A throat being cleared altered him that he was not in fact alone. Looking up he recognized his cousin entering his safe haven. "Devon, what a pleasant surprise, what brings you to my home?" He drawled lazily.

The cousin of the Goblin King was a tall well built handsome male Fae of an age close to that of the King. Like Jareth Devon was a fair haired Fae, and his eyes while not the mismatched wonders of the Goblin King were a mesmerizing blue. His jaw line was firm, and his face could have been the inspiration for dozens of statues in the mortal realm. Like Jareth he was athletic and kept himself fit. His well tailored garments were most revealing. Today he was in well fitting riding garments and boots. Devon was as meticulous about his attire as his cousin, and always chose colors that suited him perfectly. The dark blue of the riding coat and it's cut gave him a dashing yet elegant appearance. He looked totally at ease, and wore the clothes well, they did not wear him. He took a seat opposite his cousin, lounging in a near mirror image of the Goblin King. "You do, you miss court… again." His voice was a rich, full bodied and unhurried baritone.

"Did I?" Jareth asked distracted as he gazed into the orb. "What a pity."

Leaning back upon his elbows, Devon nodded. "Yes, and I've been sent to check up on you."

"I'm fine," Jareth said looking at the most recent choice of dreams play out; "As you can see."

Letting his head roll slightly to one side, Devon looked at the item in his cousin's hand. "What is that you have there?"

A smirk came to the Goblin King's full lips; "A crystal."

Devon sat upright, peeved. "I can see that it's a crystal, dunce. What's that within it?"

"A young girl's dreams," crooned the dreamy voice of the Goblin King. He tossed it carelessly toward his cousin knowing Devon would catch it easily.

The other mused over the myriad of dreams that flooded the orb. "What happened to the donor?"

"Don't know, went mad and died shrived up most likely." He caught the orb as it was flung back to him. Turning to look at Devon again he smiled. "So I'm missed am I?"

"No," Devon sighed heavily. "They think you're up to no good."

Jareth chuckled as he tossed the orb up in the air and caught it lightly again. "So they send you to spy?"

"Yes," Devon said looking bored. "I however had my own reasons for accepting this responsibility."

Amused the King let his smile reach his eyes, "I wonder what that could be."

Devon rose to his feet. "You have one of the finest wine cellars," he announced blithely. "And I've a great thirst, besides it's been too long since you and I've had a good long visit, cousin. Ever since you've taken on the mantle of the Goblin King we've hardly had time for any fun… no falconing, no wenching….no long dark heart to hearts."

Jareth rose to his feet, placed the orb in the vest he wore, "Come cousin, I know of a corner of the kingdom that has a fine tavern that serves something tastier than that swill they call ale in town here. And the wenches are as full bodied as the wine, and just as welcoming."

Devon slapped the King on the back. "Now you're talking!"

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Robert met Sarah at the train station when she arrived home from New York. She had one week to spend with them before she had to leave for the new school. Karen was worried there would not be time enough for shopping for the items Sarah would need. However as she'd be wearing a uniform Linda had taken care of shopping for the incidentals. Sarah carried the painting that was now her prized possession off the train when it arrived. She hugged her father and thanked him for coming to get her. All the way to the house Robert told her all the news of what had happened in town while she'd been off visiting her mother.

Toby ran out the front door waving his hands excitedly when they pulled into the driveway. Sarah opened the door nearly before her father had come to a halt and was running across the lawn to catch up the little boy into her arms. She swung him up and peppered him with loving kisses. "Toby, oh my Toby!" she giggled as he peppered her right back.

Karen stood in the door way watching, touched by the closeness that had developed between the two. Robert carried Sarah's belongings into the house. "I really don't like sending her away again." Karen stated as he passed her.

"Neither do I," he huffed.

Toby wiggled and giggled and grabbed at Sarah's face. "Sewha."

"Sarah…" she corrected gently.

He made a face and repeated. "Sewha."

"Have it your way tyke," she surrendered collapsing on the lawn with him in her lap. "Did you miss me?"

He nodded his head enthusiastically, and pointed to the tree; "Bird."

Not bothering to look up Sarah smiled, "There are a lot of them in the trees, Toby." She cuddled him close. "Big birds, little birds… mama birds… baby birds…"

He giggled and said. "Toby bird?"

Sarah's smile faded only for a moment, "No, Toby is a boy."

Karen watched quietly, feeling at a loss. "She belongs home with her family." She whispered aloud.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Too soon the week was over, and it was time for Sarah to be driven up state to the campus of St. Ambrose's school. She had asked Karen to stay home with Toby as she didn't think she could bear saying good bye to him at the school. She also didn't want him to see the place she'd been sent to. Karen was understanding, and had told Sarah that she would do what ever the girl thought was best.

It had been hard enough when her father had the car packed and ready to go, to kiss the boy goodbye. She hugged Karen and begged her to keep the boy safe. Karen gave her a strange expression but promised she would.

The ride would take a full two and a half hours, and it didn't start out well. Robert had noticed that try as she would; Sarah was shunning the company of anyone outside the family. He cleared his throat after the first fifteen minutes of silence. "Can we talk?"

Sarah looked out the window, not willing to meet eyes; "If we must."

"Sarah, are you taking your meds?" he asked plainly.

"No," she leaned on the door. "They stopped working about two weeks after I got to Mother's… I'm taking Chinese Herbs in their place….and Yes before you ask, I cleared it with the Clinic." There was no mistaking the terseness in her tone.

Robert frowned, "I wish you'd told me first."

"Mother took me to her herbalist," she droned. "Look Daddy, its over and done with… the meds were not working…. I knew there was a chance they'd stop…"

He glanced over at her, than back at traffic. "What do you mean you knew?"

Sarah rubbed her forehead. "I did a little research of my own," she tried to focus out the window. "This condition gets worse… not better in most cases. And the meds are just in trial stages, no one is sure if they will work at all."

"You sound like there's more." He stated.

Sarah looked at him, "I know why I'm being sent to St. Ambrose." She confided.

"To learn to deal with your anger," He nodded.

"To be locked up if necessary," she corrected. "Daddy, if they can't correct this I'll go mad."

He pulled over to the side of the road. "No one has said a word about…"

"Daddy, I read up on this… thing. This loss of dreams…" she gripped his arm. "It starts with simple limb twitches, and I've had some already, they started at mother's… then more complex integrated movements to where it appears you're dreaming… but you're not… behaviors are often violent in nature and commonly result in injury to either the patient or their bed partner, or anyone who tries to come into contact with the sleeper. Injuries range from bruises and cuts to fractures, subdural hematoma and other serious injuries. In contrast, all other aspects of sleep appear similar to normal." She whispered. "I could hurt you or Karen, or even Toby and not be aware of it."

Robert whispered in a soft voice. "But surely the meds…"

"They don't always work… and as time drones on… loss of dreams means the brain no longer has any kind of release from stress… Subjects go mad….more oven than not." She grabbed his arm. "Daddy while I can still think clearly… promise me… if I start to slip… If I go off the deep end, you'll cut your losses and forget me. Keep me from Karen, Keep me from Toby. Just walk away…"

"I can't make a promise like that," He growled, "You're my daughter… and I'd never just abandon you…"

"For the safety of Karen and Toby you had better be willing to!" She warned darkly. "I read up on this so called school as well... And yes it is a school, but it's also a hospital; St. Ambrose's hospital for the treatment of mental illness. If I can't get the anger in check… or if I show signs of going mad they will pressure you to incarcerate me."

Robert looked devastated. "We can turn around right now." He offered.

"No, there's no turning back…." Sarah stated in a tone that said she was resigned to her fate. "I'm going to be spending the rest of my life in this place or a place just like it most likely." She grabbed her father's hand. "Don't let Karen or Toby visit me here!"

Nodding he looked at the road; "What ever you say."

"Just try to remember me as I was…." She begged.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

The broacher didn't do justice to the buildings of the Girls Campus of St. Ambrose. As far as outward appearances, one would have thought this was the idle setting for a girls' school. The darker truth, and the hospital associated with the school were hidden from view. The grounds were well kept, and immaculate. The few students who were milling about were dressed in crisp little uniforms and looked like any other students of an exclusive school. Except t hat they weren't just students. Each and every one of them was here for a reason. Society wanted them out of the public, and here they were under control.

Sarah stepped out of her father's car, looked up at the administration building and took a deep breath. She and her father walked side up side up the steps and into the building. A receptionist at a desk looked up as they entered.

"May I help you?" she lowered her thick glasses off her nose.

"Robert Williams and Sarah," he handed her the paper with Sarah's registration.

"Ah yes, the Williams girl," placing her glasses back on the bridge of her nose she scrutinized the girl. "I thought we'd sent a letter asking her to be in uniform upon arrival."

Sarah looked down at her sedate attire, "I'm sorry, must not have reached us." She said coolly.

The woman sniffed and stood up. "The head mistress will see you directly." Leading the way she walked down the hall and tapped on a door. Once she was bid enter, she opened the door and announced them. "Mr. Robert Williams and his daughter Sarah are here, Ma'am."

"Do send them in," a voice in the room commanded firmly.

Sarah entered to find a stoic woman awaiting her. "I am Mrs. Browning," the woman said waving a hand to chairs for them to be seated. "I'm the Head Mistress of this establishment." She held her hand out to Robert for the paper work. "We were expecting you a bit earlier."

"Traffic," Robert lamented quietly.

The woman read over the first page of the registration. "We are experiencing an influx of students at this time. I know we offered you a single room, however only our upper classmen are being giving those accommodations right now."

Sarah bristled at the thought of having to share a room. "Ma'am, are you aware of my… medical condition?"

The woman looked at the girl with disdain. "I've read your file, yes." She placed her hands on her desk and clasped them. "I see no reason for you not to have a room mate who is aware of the same."

"Aware of the same?" Sarah looked panicked for a moment.

"Unless you'd rather not be one of our students," the woman was callous.

"You know I have no choice," Sarah amended the sentence, "Ma'am."

Looking as if she'd had the upper hand, the elderly woman handed Sarah a list of do's and don'ts. "These are the rules of the dorm you'll be assigned to. You're to room with another new girl, but a freshman I'm afraid."

"I'm a junior," Sarah said suddenly as if she'd just remembered. "Doesn't that qualify as an upper classmen?"

"Only our seniors are considered upper classmen at this time," the woman didn't appear happy at being questioned. "As I said, you'll be rooming with a freshman, and like you she is new to our campus."

Robert was not happy with the treatment they were given. "I was under the impression that our arrangements were with Head Master Talbot."

Cold as ice the woman regarded Sarah's father. "Talbot was removed from his duties at the end of the last term. AS you are aware we have classes year round, he was found lacking in certain disciplines." She turned her stony gaze on Sarah. "I was hired to take his place by the board."

Sarah moved her foot against her fathers, cautioning him to say no more. She looked at the Head Mistress. "And my visits to the clinic of St. Ambrose's hospital?"

"Will be overseen by one of my staff," she said pressing a buzzer. A young woman dressed very severely entered. "Donna here will see you to your rooms. Get settled, you'll be expected for the evening meal."

"I had planned on taking her out to dinner," Robert protested lightly.

"Out of the question," Mrs. Browning snapped. "All students are to stay on campus for the first two weeks of arrival." She eased up a bit. "Perhaps you'd like to come and take her out on Family weekend at the end of October." The Head Mistress never rose from her desk. "Donna, Mr. Williams is allowed to see his daughter to her dorm…and then you may escort him to his vehicle." Turning her attentions to some papers on her desk she dismissed the father and daughter. "Good bye Mr. Williams."

Outside the office, escorted by the woman dressed like a prison Matron, Robert had second thoughts. "Sarah, come home." He whispered.

Sarah shook her head, "Toby is safer if I'm here." She murmured in a low voice. She was certain the 'Matron' was listening. "I'll be fine Daddy," She stated aloud. "I'm a Williams."

Robert and Sarah came out to his car, unpacked her bags to be lead by the 'Matorn' up stairs in one dismal dormitory. The walls were once a bluish green, but now were more a dull lifeless gray. Robert's eyes pleaded with his daughter to reconsider. The girl embraced him when the last of her suitcases had been brought in along with the covered painting that Sarah had brought with her. The 'Matron' stood over them watching their every move. Bravely Sarah bid her father to go, she watched with a stoic face as he took his leave. He halted at the door and promised he'd come up for Family Weekend. Sarah nodded and watched him leave with a brave face.

He had no more than closed the door, and Sarah took a seat on the bed that had not yet been made up. The other side of the room being occupied by her roommate, and her bed covered with a lacey coverlet in a shade of pink that was disturbingly childish. Sarah stood up and began to look at the perfectly laid out items of her roommate, and started to worry.

"Hello," a cheery voice chirped as the door opened. Sarah turned and felt her stomach turn over; a Barbie doll of a girl had come bounding in the room. Sarah whispered a silent prayer, but had a feeling it was going to go unheard. "I'm Mary Sue, your roommate… You must be Sherrie," she said in a Stepford perfect tone extending her hand in greeting.

"I'm in Hell," Sarah groaned as she avoided the hand that was stretched out to her. "I'm in absolute hell. And I'm stuck with a life-sized Barbie doll."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Mrs. Browning answered the phone in her office; "Yes, she's arrived. She's getting settled now, Doctor. I agree… Yes, she will be ready for your visit quite soon… I'm sure."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Exactly one week later Mary Sue was in Mrs. Browning's office crying as if her soul had been injured. "Oh please Ma'am… I can't stay in that room one more night…. That girl… there's something wrong with her." The girl moaned loudly.

"What has she done?"

"She stares… all night long." Mary Sue put her fists up to her mouth as if to stop the words. "She's… got evil… eyes…."

Mrs. Browning took a deep breath, "I don't believe this. Listen to me you foolish girl… there is no such thing as evil eyes…and I won't listen to such nonsense." Snapping her fingers she alerted Donna to take the girl out. When the girl had been escorted away, Mrs. Browning dialed a number. "I'm sorry to disturb you, it's the Williams girl." She took a breath; "She's just chased off the roommate. Yes, I have somewhere else to move the girl… yes, I'll place Miss Jennings in with her."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Sarah came in from her classes to find Anne Jennings a sophomore nosing though her belongings. "Who are you?" She asked carefully.

Jennings, a tough girl with a tougher attitude looked down her pretty Irish nose at Sarah. "I'm your new roommate, they moved Mary Sue over to building five."

"I see," Sarah said sitting down on her bed.

Jennings scowled at Sarah, "I'm here because I cause trouble when I'm unhappy… so don't make me unhappy."

"Don't touch me or my things and I won't touch you." Sarah warned coolly. Jennings scoffed once more and strutted out the door. "Peahen," Sarah muttered.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Jennings was tougher than poor Mary Sue who now refused to be in the same room with Sarah Williams. Jennings lasted two weeks, and had to be led out of the closet she'd locked herself into.

Sarah swore she'd never even touched the other, that she was not aware of any problem.

Jennings told Mrs. Browning, "Sarah Williams is the strangest girl I've ever seen… and I don't want to see her again."

Mrs. Browning dialed a number after the girl was escorted to her new dorm. "Doctor, I don't think you can put off seeing the Williams girl much longer…. What? Yes, I've one more roommate… As you wish."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

The 'Matron' arrived that afternoon with 'Large' Marge Paulson. The girl could have passed for a woman wrestler and gotten away with it. She was built like a line backer and was found of lifting weights as a form of intimidation with her roommates. Marge took over the side of the room that had been Mary Sue's first and then Anne's. She would drop weights while Sarah was studying, and laugh to herself as she did it.

Sarah was able to ignore her for the most part, that is until Marge carelessly tossed a weight that smashed though the picture frame with a picture of Toby in it. Sarah backed the girl who was a good foot taller and a good sixty pounds heavier and full of muscles against the wall and asked quietly if she'd care to be dropped head first out the window. Sarah never laid a finger on the other, but her tone was grave enough for 'Large' Marge to take her seriously.

'Large' Marge lasted until the second week of October, when she began blubbering about Sarah doing strange things in her sleep… and twitching. She said she stopped sleeping herself, as she feared for her life.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

The director of the sleep clinic associated with the school smiled as he read over the reports on the Williams girl. He'd never known a subject so perfect for his study. He was sure she would never suspect that they had manipulated the situation to advance her condition.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Sarah watched as 'Large' Marge's belongings were carted out of the room. The next roommate was due shortly. She took a handful of the herbs Lin Cho had put together and swallowed them without the benefit of water. "I'm in hell," she repeated as she took to her bed with a book.

The door opened and a southern belle entered, "Hello," a sweet voice dripping honey and cornpone sounded as the girl opened her mouth. "I'm Jolene Raulings, I'm you're new roommate."

Sarah looked at the girl who had some kind of delusion that she was the incarnation of Scarlett O'Hara. Shaking her head, and trying to stay civil. "I'm Sarah Williams."

Jolene sat down on what was to be her bed lightly. "Have you been here long?" She was trying herself to keep civil.

"Since the beginning of the new term," Sarah said coolly. "I don't think I've seen you before."

"I just arrived," the girl lamented.

Sarah looked at the girl and sighed. "You look pretty normal… what are you here for?"

"It's the strangest thing; I have this naughty little habit of picking things up and walking off with them;" Giggled the southern belle.

Sarah looked at her seriously. "Jolene, right? Look they are setting you up… I'm very territorial, and I've been know to snap… I don't want to hurt you …or anyone else for that matter. However… I won't be able to help myself."

Big eyes looked at Sarah. "You're giving me a fair warning?"

"What ever you do, don't touch my things." Sarah said sharply. "I don't want to hurt you." She repeated.

Jolene began to wring her hands. "I don't know if I can stop my self…." She began to fret. "That's why I'm here… to complete some kind of new treatment…"

Jolene lasted all of two days.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Sarah was not surprised when she was escorted by the 'Matron' to the offices in a building near the back of the campus. The building had been dubbed 'The Bastille' by the students. It was here that the students with the most pronounced conditions met with councilors and doctors. Sarah had just been about to take an herbal tablet before the 'Matron' had barged into her now empty dorm room without so much as knocking. The woman glared at the girl, confiscated the tablet and marched her down the hall and out of the building.

When they arrived in the clinic, staff in long white coats looked at Sarah with dull lifeless eyes. 'Matron' slammed the tablet down on a desk and announced she'd found Sarah taking something that was most likely drugs. Sarah didn't even look at the woman; she looked down at her herbal tablet with longing. The edginess was beginning to mount. The clinic receptionist led Sarah to a little waiting room and motioned for her to go in.

Two other girls sat within the room, one was 'Large' Marge who backed herself up into a wall as close as she could when she saw Sarah enter. Sarah took a seat near the door and looked at the clock hanging on a wall.

The other girl watched Sarah with mild interest after seeing the reaction from the larger girl. She looked at Sarah, with eyes a shade of dark brown that nearly appeared black. Her creamy skin and dark hair gave her a strangely exotic appearance. "You're Sarah Williams, aren't you?" She asked a few moments later after Sarah had time to acclimate to the strange room. "I'm Lilith, Lilith Timofia." She didn't extend her hand, just merely introduced herself.

"Settle down, Marge." Sarah warned quietly. "I'm not going to do anything to you." She then turned her attentions to the dark girl who seemed to be amused by the situation. "Timofia, that's a strange name."

"Greek," the girl stated calmly. She smiled at Sarah. "You're becoming something of a celebrity here." She motioned to Marge. "Few if any have ever caused Marge to cower."

"Marge is a bully, and a coward," Sarah observed. "What are you?"

"Observant." Lilith stated sill keeping her-self at a distance. 'Matron' entered the room and pointed to Marge to follow her. Once again alone Lilith made a barely noticeable hand motion. Then said to Sarah, who was now aware of the camera that was focused on them; "We have a couple of classes together."

"Do we? Which ones?" Sarah wondered if this girl was friend or foe, or something else altogether.

"World Literature and History," Lilith didn't try to move closer, or seem anymore friendly then just keeping up a bit of conversation. "Did you get the study guild for the chapter due next week? I didn't."

"It's not too hard," Sarah wondered what the game was this other was playing.

"Perhaps you'd meet me in the library and explain it to me." Lilith suggested lightly. "I'd like to pass my classes this term instead of dragging in a low C."

"How are you with math?" Sarah asked quickly.

"I'm a wiz," Lilith stated firmly.

Sarah gave the other a nod, "I'll help you with the study guide if you'll help me with math."

"Done," Lilith said as 'Matron' entered the room and pointed to her. "I'll see you in the library after classes, Sarah. I'll be in the study room, see ya."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Sarah entered the office when 'Matron' came for her. Behind a very large and ornate desk sat a man with hollow eyes. He looked at Sarah with some misgivings. "Miss Williams, I'm Daryl Daniels, I'm the director of the department in charge of the sleep disorders clinic." He motioned the girl to be seated. "Can you explain to me what this is?" He held out the herbal tablet.

"Chinese herbs," Sarah said. "I'm taking them for my condition."

"These were not what were prescribed for you." He tossed the tablet into the garbage can and noted with satisfaction the slight look of panic on the girl's face. "You will be issued more of the prescription, and expected to take that alone." He settled back into his executive typed leather chair. "Now, how are you doing?"

Sarah looked at the can containing the herbal tablet. "I was holding my own."

"There is a new treatment that we'd like to suggest you try…" the director stated. "And we'd like your co-operation with the study that goes with the treatment."

Sarah felt the hair on the back of her neck raise up, "I'll be happy to cooperate." She stated, but was not sure why she'd say something she didn't mean. "When does this study begin?"

"Today," He said curtly. "You'll be given a log to chart your progress… oh and a new roommate as well. You do seem to have trouble keeping them, don't you?"

Shrugging, Sarah stood up knowing her interview was at an end. "Where do I get this log?"

Daniels opened a draw on his desk and handed her a note book. "You're new prescription will be delivered to you at your dorm room, kindly hand over anything that is not prescribed to the staff member who delivers your prescription." He looked away from her with a sneer.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

'Matron' took Sarah back to her dorm, the exchange was made, drugs for herbs and Sarah were then left on her own. She made her way over to the big old library building, and headed for the study room. Lilith, true to her promise was there, with her books already open. She looked up at Sarah and gave her a nod.

The study room was nearly empty when Lilith said in a quiet voice. "They are watching you."

Sarah didn't want to react, and kept her head in the book, whispered back. "I know."

"You must be very careful," warned the Greek girl. "They don't really know what they have in you."

"And you do?" Sarah asked slightly perturbed.

"I've a better idea than they do," admitted the dark girl. "You're a tortured soul, like me… and a few others." She passed something to Sarah under the table. A ring of beads on a sliver chain, off of which were two dangling flat glass beads that looked like eyes.

Sarah whispered, "Lilith, what is this?"

"Worry beads, Fos tis psihis mou." The Greek girl whispered tenderly. She closed her books and stretched. "I think that's enough for today… Come I'll walk with you to the refectory, we can eat our dinner together."

Once out of the building and walking side by side Sarah asked quietly, not wishing others to hear them. "What did you say to me back there in the study room?"

"Fos tis psihis mou." Lilith repeated before translating for Greek to English. "It means, Light of my soul."

Sarah's steps faltered. "I beg your pardon?"

Lilith smiled wickedly at her. "You are what you are; Sarah I've been looking for you for a very long time."

Sarah looked at her, kept pace with her and let the conversation drop as they entered the building where food was prepared. "When would you like to study again?" She asked as they took seats.

"Tomorrow, if it's alright with you." Lilith said.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Arriving at the dorm room, and seeing the flurry of activity, Sarah knew her new roommate had arrived. She quietly opened the container of tablets that had been exchanged for her herbs and tipped one into her hand. Frowning she placed the bitter pill on her tongue and with water swallowed it down. "I'm in hell," she whispered placing the container down. Her hand went into her pocket as she watched the latest roommate arranging her belongings. Her fingers curled about the smooth glass of the worry beads. Strangely enough, it did comfort Sarah.

The new roommate was a girl that reminded Sarah strongly of Marion. Sarah set her jaw, and whispered to her self. "I'm in hell."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3. The silent conspiracy**

Sarah lay on her bed; her eyes open as sleep seemed to elude her. She looked at the painting hanging over her bed. Still only seeing it as a dragon chasing a bird, and wondering what it was she was missing. Her new roommate was making churning sounds in her sleep and Sarah sighed heavily. In her hands were the little glass beads that Lilith had given her earlier, strangely enough they gave her some calm moments. It was late, and still sleep eluded her. Her mind was racing over the events of this day. Her herbs having been taken from her was the most troubling thought.

In the weeks, now months that she'd been taking the herbs she'd developed a sense of dependency on the way they allowed her to focus during the waking hours, and rest during sleep. No dreams but sleep… and awaken feeling less than totally on edge. She wondered if all the people at the clinic dealing her disorder were dense enough to believe that she would just do as ordered without finding out about the compounds being used to treat her condition. This latest prescription was most troubling, _**Clonazepam,**_ an anticonvulsant. Sarah was not aware of having convulsed, and was not sure she liked being giving a drug without having it explained to her.

The pill had been bitter, more so than the last prescription, and it left a bad taste in her mouth. Rising from her bed, she walked quietly into the little bathroom she and her roommate shared. She brushed her teeth for the second time that evening, and gargled trying to get the odious taste to dissipate without much success. The foul taste suddenly caused her to retch, gagging on the contents of her stomach. She moved from the sink to the commode to heave and empty. After her system cleared itself, she washed her mouth out again and gargled. A cold sweat had beaded on her forehead, and she leaned on the door jam looking into the dark room she was sharing. Her roommate was still churning, having missed the entire episode of her tossing her cookies. Sarah moved to her bed once more and took long deep breaths to calm herself looking at the painting of Li Po as she did. Soon she closed her eyes, lying still in the darkness. Still only seeing a dragon chasing a bird.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Sarah was groggy when she awoke, attributing it to the remains of the chemicals in her system. Her eyes opened to find the roommate having risen and already in the shower. Sarah rose and made her bed, not wanting to share the bath room with the other, not now and perhaps never in the future. She held her bladder until the other girl had exited the bath fully covered in a fluffy bath towel. Only then did she allow herself to enter the bath and close the door firmly. She noticed a slightly different order to her urine and made a note to put this observation down in her note book. She then showered and again brushed her teeth. Exiting the bath she found her roommate looking at her clothes in the shared closet with longing. Sarah bristled. "Don't touch my things." She warned.

The new roommate looked over her shoulder at Sarah with less than a considerate gaze. "I was just looking." The Marion clone said defensively.

"And I'm just warning," Sarah said staying back, until the other girl had her uniform on. Sarah made her way over to the closet and pulled out a fresh blouse for her uniform. "I don't like people touching my things."

"I hear you don't like a lot of things," taunted the girl who more and more reminded her of Marion. "Did your mother buy you all those things?"

"Some are from my mother, some are from my father," Sarah dressed in hopes the other would leave her alone.

"Your mother's some kind of actress, right?" The girl leaned on the dresser.

"Yes," even the tone of her voice didn't seem to help, it seemed to boarder on disgust and Sarah knew the other girl was on a mission.

"Ran off and left you and your father I read somewhere." She sneered, looking more and more like Marion.

Bristling and feeling her defenses go up, Sarah turned to look at the Marion double. "What do you want?"

Blond curls went flying over a curved shoulder. "Me, I just want to get to know you."

Sarah bit her tongue and picked up her books. "I've got an early class." She muttered moving past the obstacle of her roommate.

Snickering the other jeered. "Don't let me keep you."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Devon found Jareth in the family dining area at breakfast when he entered. "Ah you didn't wait for me." He companied.

The Goblin King dabbed his lips with the linen napkin, "I thought you might still be… busy."

"Sent the wench back hours ago," The other mused. "She was amusing and most enthusiastic; however a man does need his sleep. I never let them spend more than a few hours entertaining me in my bed. That way none can make claims later." He took his seat, and raised the goblet of juice to his lips; "To your health cousin."

Jareth returned the salute; "To yours." Between bites of a meat pasty the King asked quietly. "How long do you intend to visit?"

Devon inspected the provisions, taking a meat pasty as well. "I've time, and you need something more than just brooding."

Jareth dropped his fork, "I don't brood."

"You do, and you know you do," Devon observed coldly. "Especially when you've not been able to turn some thing to your advantage, or you've miscalculated something or worse, someone. However I should like some hunting, and your lands are much better for that than my own. So cousin, I suggest you plan on my being here for oh a month or so…"

"And should I be summoned?" Jareth challenged saucily.

Shrugging Devon sipped his goblet again. "You answer."

Jareth smiled, "Devon, perhaps you are right… it's time I got on with things."

The other Fae raised his goblet and saluted the Goblin King. "Here, here."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Sarah had taken no notice of any of the other students in her classes. This morning she was looking for Lilith when she arrived at her literature class. The Greek girl was assigned a seat on the opposite side of the room. But her presences seemed to give Sarah a feeling of not being totally alone. She inclined her head to Sarah and opened her note book. Sarah slid a hand into her pocket, fingered the beads and then turned her attentions to the instructor giving a lecture. When the class was over neither girl made an effort to speak to the other, but moved on to the next class.

When Sarah found Lilith in the study room, she had her book open to a chapter that had nothing to do with the days' class. Sarah knew the other was trying to send her a coded message, but was at a loss to figure it out. Lilith looked up to where a camera was and then back to her book. "I was wondering if your parents are coming up this weekend," she asked Sarah.

"Just my father," Sarah commented; "Is your family coming up?"

"No," Lilith stated looking a bit miffed. "You must be thrilled."

"I wish I could say I was," Sarah confessed in a mutter. Lilith placed her finger on a word in the book, and hoped Sarah would notice. Narrowing her gaze while trying to look like she wasn't, Sarah began to tap her pencil. Once for no twice for yes as Lilith used the words of the book to talk to Sarah while asking mundane questions as a cover.

Lilith nodded when it was time to close the books. "Sit with me at dinner." She said quickly as 'Matron' suddenly entered the room. 'Matron' snapped her fingers at Sarah, expecting to be followed. Sarah rolled her eyes and did as was expected of her. Lilith watched her being led out of the room and whispered softly. "Fos tis psihis mou." Her voice was breathy and she felt her pulse race. She had something to look forward to, and that was enough.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Led to the dorm room, Sarah was surprised to find Mrs. Browning standing there with a scowl. Beside her was the latest of Sarah's roommates howling as if she'd been stabbed. It was not until Sarah was at the door that she understood why. Everything on her side of the room was just as she'd left it; everything on the other side was upside down and inside out.

"Good God, what happened in here?" she asked.

Mrs. Browning didn't appear to be in a mood to quibble. "Laura is of the opinion that you did this," she accused Sarah.

"I did not," the girl denied knowing she hadn't set foot in the room all day. "How could I? I left this morning before… what's her name here…." She waved a disinterested hand at the other who backed away as if threatened.

"Really Miss Williams adding lying to the crimes is not very smart." Mrs. Browning snapped.

Sarah went cold, her face a mask of contempt. "Perhaps you should check up on me," she suggested in an icy quip. "Ask her, I left before she did!"

Mrs. Browning turned to the Marion double, "Laura, did Miss Williams leave the room before you this morning?"

"She did, but she must have come back…" Laura pouted, miserable over the over turning of her belongings. "How else could this have happened?"

"How else indeed," Mrs. Browning agreed. "I've sent for today's monitoring of this hall…" She looked daggers at Sarah. "This is your last chance to own up to this display of bad behavior, Miss Williams."

Sarah felt a wonderful urge to tell the Head Mistress to fuck herself sideways, but resisted. Instead she gave her a cooling expression. "I have no fear."

The hall monitor called for them to come to the end of the hall and observe the tape as it was replayed. It showed Sarah leaving the room as she'd said she had. After Laura had also exited it showed nothing more until Laura returned to the room to find it upturned. Laura gasped. "That's not possible? Someone got in, gremlins didn't do this!" she exclaimed excitedly.

Sarah felt the tightness in her stomach, 'no,' she thought coldly. 'goblins did.' She looked at Mrs. Browning. "I told you, I didn't do this. I've been out of the room all day… classes and then studying with Lilith Timofia. You can ask the Librarian, she saw us enter, and then leave. We had to sign in and out with her." Being in the right gave Sarah an air of confidence she didn't feel right now.

Laura growled, "I don't know how you did this, but I'm sure it was you…you weirdo!"

Snickering, Sarah raised a brow. "Is that your best shot?"

Mrs. Browning frowned. "Check the tapes again… someone must have done this." She ordered. She stood over the shoulder of the monitor technician, neither one looked happy. The door opening when Laura left showed the room in order, then when she returned it showed the room a shambles. Nothing else, no person ever went near the door.

Sarah wondered if she was supposed to feel guilty, "I could help you strengthen up." She offered.

Laura growled at her, "I wouldn't allow you to touch my dog let alone my personal belongings, Williams."

Mrs. Browning shook her head, she too was sure that the Williams girl was to blame but with out proof was out of luck. "Laura put your things to rights, Miss Williams I suggest you go to dinner. I will be putting this on both your records." The Head Mistress retreated to her own office to mull this situation over.

Sarah shrugged and made her way over to the schools dining hall. She found Lilith and another girl waiting for her. Lilith smiled, "Sarah, this is Bryn Cystennie. Bryn this is Sarah."

The new girl was looking at Sarah with a look of recognition. "Sarah," she greeted her if not warmly, at least it was friendly. Bryn gazed at Sarah with eyes the color of a cool bed of forest moss. Her face was open, and wise, and compassionate. Sarah wondered what in the hell had sent this one to this hell hole. Looking at the girl with long dark red hair braided down her back, one could only think of fall leaves and cool forest glades. She didn't look like a miscreant nor did she appear to have a problem in the world.

"Bryn," Sarah returned the greeting in kind.

Lilith looked at the lines for dinner. "One wonders how they can be so eager to eat this swill."

"No choice," Bryn commented.

Sarah snickered. "They do look eager, don't they?"

Lilith shook her head sadly; "What I wouldn't give for some _**Dolmades**_."

"That's grape leaves isn't it?" Sarah asked.

Lilith nodded looking sad, "I haven't had any it two years… that's how long I've been here." She led the way to the line and the bland food that was served up.

"You'll have to tell me about it sometime," Sarah tried to sound only half interested as she frowned at the food that had been plopped down on her plate.

"Bryn has been here only a year," Lilith said knowing the conversations were monitored but keeping it from sounding important. "She's still green around the edges, aren't you?"

Bryn looked down in disgust at the dinner. "More than the edges," she rejoined.

They took seats at a table that no one else was occupying. It was in plain view, and anyone passing could hear their conversations. Sarah had to wonder what it was Lilith was doing. She kept the direction of the conversation during the meal on events surrounding the school, and Sarah caught sight of several of the monitors coming closer to check on them, and then drift away seeing nothing going on. Only once did Sarah see the gleam of triumphant victory in the eyes of the Greek girl.

When the meal was finished Lilith suggested a good walk to help digest the food. Once out of the building and walking the path Lilith whispered. "We have to keep the conversation light."

Bryn nodded and took the lead. "Did you finish the Chem. homework?"

Lilith whispered to Sarah as Bryn carried on a conversation, "I hear there was trouble in your dorm."

Sarah looked at Bryn, "I have the problems figured out." She hoped both would understand.

Lilith whispered again, "Sarah, don't let them railroad you, they will if they can."

"I noticed." Sarah nodded toward the pair.

Bryn pointed to the fountain that was not yet turned off for the fall and winter. "Oh look," she walked toward it, "Good thing this fucking ugly thing is loud." She quipped. "I was running out of chem. Talk."

Sarah looked at the fountain, Bryn was right it was fucking ugly. "Who is this Daniels man?"

Lilith answered quickly trying to smile as if she were talking about something pleasant. "He's the head of some research group. They are targeting the girls with anger issues, hence you, me and a few others… but not Bryn here… she's not angry enough for them."

"They took my Chinese herbs and replaced them with a prescription that nearly gagged me." Sarah smiled coyly as she spoke.

"Bastards," snickered the girl undoing her braid and running her fingers though the long strands. "If you don't take it, they'll make you."

"If I do take it, it could kill me." Sarah answered keeping the smile in place.

"You're going to have to be careful," Bryn pointed to something on the fountain as if explaining its finer features to the other two. "You could palm the pill when you put it in your mouth and then toss it down the commode…"

"I'll think of something, but they took my herbs." Sarah lamented softly.

"I'm dying for a drag on a cigarette," Lilith groaned. "And they found my stash at the tree."

Bryn could see the cameras turning to watch them. "Told you not to leave them there…" She stepped away from the fountain with the two other girls in tow. "We'd best get back, big brother is watching."

Sarah nodded.

The three returned to where the dorms sat. Lilith whispered, "I'm in building six, Bryn is in two… we'll sit together again tomorrow." She promised before turning to leave. Bryn nodded and also went her way.

Sarah returned to her room, knowing that the Marion Clone, Laura, would be there waiting. She breezed in, and took a seat on her bed, took up a sketch pad and began to draw. Sarah was not even sure why she'd picked up the pad. Part of her brain said it was to giver herself an excuse not to speak to Laura. It was what she discovered herself drawing that gave her a bit of unrest. On the page, staring back at her was a bug-eyed face with its mouth agape and its eyes focused, a Goblin. Sarah blinked, wondered why in the world she'd draw this, why now? The sketch pad was ripped from her hands.

Laura looked at the drawing with abhorrence, "That's the ugliest thing I've ever seen… and the drawing stinks." She ripped it from the pad and began to tear it apart as if challenging Sarah to do something about it.

"You shouldn't have done that," Sarah tossed her pencil on the night stand.

Laura scoffed, "You plan on doing something about it?"

"Not me," Sarah sighed sliding off the bed and headed toward the little bath room to change. "I'm not going to do a thing… but someone else will…" she could feel Laura's gaze follow her as she closed the door she whispered. "The Goblin's will get you if you don't watch out…" she snickered to herself knowing that Laura had crossed a line that even she was only barely aware of.

Laura awoke to a fit of screams and raced from the room in the middle of the night. She swore that she felt little hands scratching at her. When she was walked back to the room by the hall monitor the room was quiet, and Sarah lay asleep, with out dreams still as death.

The monitor glared at Laura, "I don't see anything out of place."

Laura shook like a leaf, "I'm not staying her! I don't care what any of you say… there's something wrong with this room," she pointed a shaky hand at Sarah. "and there's something wrong with her!"

The next morning Laura was moved out.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Robert had driven up to the school alone, as Sarah had requested. He carried with him gifts from both Karen and Linda as well as drawings from Toby to his big sis. It was easy to deliver these; it was the news he had to give her that was going to be much harder. He waited in the reception room for her to enter.

The moment her eyes found him, she knew something was wrong. Her façade smile faded and she marched over to him. "What's happened?" she asked in a slightly demanding tone.

Robert held his breath for a instant then blurted out. "We had to put Merlin down."

Sarah staggered back a half a step before she caught herself. "What happened? She asked again, softer.

Robert taking care not to touch her, knowing she was holding on to threads of calm, "I don't know sweetheart, I think it was just his age." He explained softly. "He started acting strange, and stopped eating… the vet did everything he could…"

Nodding the girl felt the sharp sting of tears. "I understand." She whispered. "What did you do with… his…"

"Karen suggested we cremate him and spread his ashes in that park you use to cavort in with him." Robert felt in danger of spilling his guts.

Sarah gave him a weak smile. "He'd have liked that…" She knew they were being watched and she pulled herself upright. "How about I give you the fifty cent tour?"

Robert followed her, wondering if things would ever be free and easy between them again. "I'm sorry I bought you here." He said quietly as he strolled the grounds at her side.

Sarah reached for his sleeve, brushing it lightly with her hand. "Don't be, believe it or not I think I'm actually making a couple of friends."

"The Head Mistress called," he said in a carefully chosen tone and volume. "She complained about having to change your roommates so often."

Once they reached the fountain, Sarah spoke quickly. "I don't have much time; we are watched like we're dangerous prisoners. So listen to me…. Get a hold of Andrew, this place is not what he thought it was. Don't let him send anyone else here… and find out about this Daniels guy who's running the sleep clinic…" Her eyes darted about wildly making sure they were alone.

"Have you been to the clinic?" Robert asked, "I mean you look terrible."

"I know," Sarah whispered. "They are trying to break me down… they took my herbs…and put me on meds that make me sicker than a dog…. And do little to make my temper better."

"You haven't had any counseling yet?" He sounded incredulous.

"No, and Daddy, I don't think I'm going to trust the counseling I get…" she looked about as if to look for something to show him. She pointed to something and kept talking. "I don't know what's going on here… but it's not what Andrew thought it was."

"They removed Andrew from the school…" Her father muttered. "But he and I exchanged private numbers when you came here."

"Someone wanted me here," she said convinced she was right. "Daddy, remember what I said. If I seem to have gone off the deep end, cut your losses."

Robert nodded, "Sarah is there anything I can do for you?"

Sarah reached for his sleeve again, gingerly touching it. "I'm losing the ability to touch others Daddy..."

He groaned, "I want to take you out of here…."

"No," she shook her head. "It will be the same anywhere else… and I don't want to go home…I don't want to put Karen or Toby through this."

Robert reached over, sensitively placing his hand over hers. She flinched but didn't pull away. "I'll do what ever you think is best… princess."

The girl with haunted green eyes looked at her father. "Keep my secrets, keep the silence."

Robert nodded and seeing staff coming toward them turned her toward the path again as he removed his hand, and she dropped hers. They walked side by side, silently.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

From the window of her room, Lilith could see the path, and it was easy enough to see Sarah walking with the man who had to be her father. The family resemblance was there, softly, but there. 'Be careful, Sarah.' Lilith mouthed silently, knowing there could be cameras in the room. Two years here had taught her not to take anything so precious as privacy for granted. It didn't pay to let one's guard down.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Sarah had gone up to her room to get a light jacket for the drive over to the café her father had made reservations for. They walked the path down toward the parking lot when they were stopped by a guard who informed them they didn't have permission for the girl to leave the grounds. Sarah held up her pass and it was quickly confiscated, and they were told they were wanted at the admin building. Robert gave his daughter a resigned sigh.

Mrs. Browning was pacing behind her desk, looking a bit like a frightened child. She held one hand worriedly to her lips, once she looked at the man sitting waiting for the father and daughter to arrive. She wanted to tell him to take his plans and shove them. But she was too worried about being replaced just as Talbot had been when he protested some action of Daryl Daniels. She knew after working here, there'd be no place for her in the world of real academia.

Daryl Daniels sat calm and tranquil, and in complete control. He watched a bit amused as the Head Mistress paced the floor. He could read her so easily, and wondered how long it would be before she broke and had to be replaced. Reaching for the tea cup that he'd easily put on the end table, he took a long sip of the tea and remarked on what a pleasant blend she'd chosen. Robert and Sarah entered, both looked upset and that too amused Daniels.

"I was told I could take my daughter to dinner," Robert said ignoring the presence of the man.

Sarah didn't ignore him, it was the man who'd taken her herbs and his look was like someone who had planned an elaborate prank and was waiting to watch it unfold. "Doctor Daniels." She said in greeting, but her tone was flat.

Robert caught it all the same and looked at the man. "Is this your doings?"

"I'm afraid it is," Daniels sighed. "You see your daughter is on a new regiment of medications and her diet has to be carefully maintained." He stood up. "I'm Doctor Daryl Daniels the Director of the sleep clinic, and you of course must be Robert Williams." He extended his hand to the girl's father.

Sarah whispered a silent prayer that her father would take the offered hand and not threaten to pull her from the clinic's care.

Silently cursing the man, Robert chose to play with the bait offered. He accepted the offered hand. "If you give me a list of what she can have I'll be happy to supervise her meal." He dropped the hand and continued speaking to the man, having dismissed the woman entirely. "I don't appreciate being stopped by armed guards when I'm with my own daughter."

"Oh dear, I'm afraid our guard staff is new and a bit over zealous." Daniels mused lightly. "I'm afraid it's out of the question, Sarah can not leave the grounds at this time… however I've made arrangements for you to have a dinner in one of our private dining rooms." He looked at his pocket watch and slipped it back into his vest. "They should be ready for you now, if you'll just go with Donna here, she'll guide you to the dining room." He snapped his fingers and 'Matron' came forward, as stoic and stone silent as ever.

Robert saw the way Sarah stood, read something unfathomable by the others, and nodded. "Fine… however in the future I'd like to know when we are unable to keep our plans." He followed the stoic woman and Sarah quietly followed him.

Daniels smiled at Mrs. Browning when they had departed. "I told you it would be no problem."

The Head Mistress wished she was as sure as he.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Sarah knew they were under observation, and kept the diner conversations as light as she could. When diner was over she walked her father down to the receiving room and bid him good bye. He promised to come and see her on the next parents' day; making the suggestion that she come home for Thanksgiving. Sarah stood in the vestibule door watching him walk down to the parking lot until one of the guards suggested she get a move on and go back to her dorm.

Sarah was alone in the room, they had not given her a new roommate as of yet so she had the room to herself. "Just because I'm paranoid…" she muttered looking about the room as she paced. "Does not mean they are not out to get me…" she could feel someone had been in the room and she was certain a camera was now secreted away in the room. She continued to pace until she was worn out. Only then did she sit on the bed, she stared at the wall ahead of her and began to count the little cracks in the plaster.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

The technician watching the monitor huffed to himself. "What the hell is she doing?"

Daniels looked over his shoulder at the screen, "I do believe she's counting."

The tech looked up at the doctor with an expression of discontent. "What could she be counting… there's nothing in there the walls are one solid color!"

"Cracks," Daniels stated. "She's counting the cracks." He straightened up. "She's very cleaver this one." He walked toward the door, "I however am far more cleaver than a mere girl."

The tech waited until the man left and looked back at his screen. "Don't count on that Doc, I've a feeling this girl is no ordinary girl."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Lilith joined Sarah in the chapel, and Bryn took a seat on the other side of Lilith. The three sat silently listening to the chaplain give his sermon. Each had a hand in her own pocket, fingering a strand of beads. No words passed their lips; they just sat, quietly side by side, fingering the worry beads each had in her pocket.

When Chapel was over, they didn't stay together, but went their separate ways. Sarah headed toward the building her dorm was in. As she reached her floor she didn't even have to look to know she was being gifted with yet another roommate. There was shouting coming from the room and the hall monitor was standing in the hall with two guards.

"I'm telling you there's something in the closet!" a voice shrieked.

Sarah entered the room, looked at the new girl, at Mrs. Browning and took a long deep breath, "Now what?" She crossed her arms.

Mrs. Browning turned on Sarah, with an intense dislike for the girl that came out of nowhere. "Miss Williams, there are no pets allowed."

"I don't have a pet." Sarah said flatly.

"Miss Chambers here insists that something tried to bite her when she was unpacking her wardrobe." The Monitor announced.

Some devil entered Sarah's fevered brain of unrest and she quipped. "Perhaps it was rats. These old buildings are full of them."

The Head Mistress's eyes flashed fire. "There are no rats in any of my buildings!"

The girl, Miss Chambers who had yet to be introduced to Sarah screeched and shrieked again. "I'm not staying in a rat infested room."

"There are no rats," the Head Mistress insisted to no avail.

The monitor looked at Sarah who was calmly taking a seat on her own bed. Something about the Williams girl gave everyone who had to deal with her the willies. He didn't like the way she was taking this all so calm.

The Chambers girl stomped her foot petulantly. "I won't stay here!"

Sarah looked from the freaking out girl to the Head Mistress, and shrugged. "Don't blame me, I just got here." Gleefully she watched as the monitor and the guards helped the frightened Chambers girl gather her belongings and exit the room.

"This is not the end of this," warned the Head Mistress crossly as she too exited Sarah's room.

"I'm sure," Sarah muttered as she lay back on her bed. She looked at the painting that Li Po had given her, still just a Dragon chasing a bird. She sighed and closed her eyes and thought of how much she missed her dreams. They were starting to fade even as memories. She could barely remember even one of them. One year without them had taken its toll, and she no longer resembled the once vain and stuck up girl who'd dreamed of performing on stage with her actress mother. She tried to ignore the fact that there was a camera in her room, but found she could not so she let her eyes wonder slowly until she found it.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Two hours later the tech was writing down his log of the Williams girl. "No change." He muttered.

Daniels shook his head, "You're wrong, she's changed. She will soon be showing signs of aggression."

"From a mere sleep disorder?" the tech asked looking back at the screen and the girl who seemed to be staring at nothing.

"I've read the reports on her… going back to when her mother left the child and her father…." Daniels wore an all too pleased smile; "One of the councilors at her middle school suggested that the mother was unbalanced and it would show up as well in the daughter…" He tapped the screen. "And that's what we are looking for."

"I thought we were looking to help the girl," another tech asked softly.

"There's helping, and then there is helping." Daniels said. "She's strong willed this one. But we are stronger. What we learn from her will give us more than just medical knowledge. It will give us power."

Silently the techs exchanged glances, but kept their misgivings to themselves. A job that paid this well with so little work was hard to find.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Devon aimed his cross bow, took careful aim on the bird in the sky then pulled his trigger. The arrow flew straight and true, and still missed. He turned to Jareth who seemed distracted. "You're not concentrating on the hunt cousin."

Lifting his bow, he signaled his servant to flush out the bird from the shrubbery. It flew up and Jareth didn't seem to aim at all. Yet when his arrow was released it hit the target and the bird dropped out of the sky. "You were saying?" Jareth quipped boredly.

Devon frowned. "I think you cheat."

Jareth snickered, "I don't have to." He tossed his cross bow to the servant. "I'm just a better shot than you."

The other Fae shook his head, "I don't see how you can be, and you're not paying any attention to the hunt."

"I don't need to," Jareth said. "I know when to shoot… I know when to hold back… I'm just better at the hunt than you, cousin." He moved toward his steed.

"I'd like to know what has you so distracted anyway." Devon groused as he mounted his steed. "What are you thinking about, cousin that has you so far away?"

"Oh nothing…" Jareth dismissed the question, unwilling to answer.

"Not that orb again…" Devon cursed.

Jareth smiled playfully. "A young girls dreams can be most entertaining, cousin."

"I'd rather have the young girl." Devon mused. Jareth bristled; he too would have rather had the girl. As that was not possible he was content with her dreams. Devon noted the bristling and asked coldly. "And what was the maids' name?"

"Damned if I recall," Jareth lied coldly. "I say, I thirst and there's a fine inn not far from here on the path. What say we drown your sorrows as a poor shot in some fine ale?"

Devon let the taunt drop at the suggestion of ale, "I would not mind a tankard or two," he mused softly; "And perhaps the warmth of a wench."

Jareth turned his steed toward the path and urged it on silently. He would take what pleasures he could, but his mind was already on returning to the Goblin Castle and taking another view of the dream orbs contents. He mused over how often he'd looked into the orb over the pass year. He'd even treated himself to taking part in one or two of the more amusing dreams.

Devon watched him, and worried that the High Court was right. Jareth was showing signs of being obsessed. He was not sure he'd be able to help his cousin overcome the fact that he was obsessed with a ghost of a memory. "Jareth," he said quietly. "You've enemies."

"I am aware." Jareth said as quietly.

"I'm not one of them," Devon murmured.

"I had not accused you of being one," sighed the Goblin King.

Devon looked over his shoulder to where the servants were bringing up the rear carrying the day's catch. "Jareth, others have started to notice your moodiness. There's talk in the High Courts… and you have to do something to correct the image that's being presented of you." He slowed his steed, and turned to give full attention to the cousin who was his only valued friend. "I don't want to see them do to you what they've done to others just because they are bored with their own lives."

Jareth leaned on the pommel of his saddle, "Devon, are you warning me for me, or you?"

"Both," the man said honestly. "Jareth, put this obsession aside," he warned. "Start attending court when it's held and start having your own court in session again. It's been a year since you've done as much as a ball… I heard the last one was… interrupted."

Jareth sighed, "I agree, what you say has merit." He looked to the heavens. "I'll attend the next court session."

"Good," Devon said firmly. "And the little orb?"

"I will put it aside…" The Goblin King promised.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4. Hiding in plain sight**

Cursing to him-self all the way back to the castle Jareth pretended to be interested in the conversation that his cousin insisted on having. Devon spoke of court intrigue, and rumors and the latest gossip that had been passed about. His cousin was making an effort to keep Jareth abreast of what had been taking place in his absence, and effort that Jareth did appreciate. There were few in the Fae courts he could think of as ally or friend. Devon was more than that; he was a councilor and a cohort as well. They had spent most of their youths in each others company. Taking fencing lesions from the same master, and had shared a good deal more than most who were tied by closer blood lines. Devon in many ways was more like a brother to him. Taking Devon's warnings seriously was not a problem… taking his suggestions in this instance was.

Jareth soon lost himself in deep thought as they road, his mind was on the orb filled with the dreams of a young girl. His jaw tightened, just thinking on the girl was enough to set his nerves on edge. He was accustomed to getting his way, be it with Goblin or Fae, male and female. Never would he have imagined anyone would be so impertinent as to actually refuse him his desires. Yet _**she **_had; that dark haired, green eyed little mortal. She had to be the most difficult female he'd ever encountered. From the moment he'd entered that house that night she'd plagued him with the demands that he return her brother… Just thinking on her was exhausting.

Devon had stopped speaking long before they reached the castle. He was watching Jareth, carefully. Observing and making not of his cousin's mood and body language. He was worried by what he was witnessing. Jareth had never been one to spend a great deal of time obsessing on encounters. He was not flighty; no more so than any other Royal, but he was never that fixated either. When they arrived at the stables, Devon dismounted and followed Jareth into the castle like a shadow. It wasn't until they entered the King's private study that he was aware that Jareth had not even noticed him follow. "Brandy?" He asked as he moved toward the snifters and the carafe holding the libation.

Jareth looked at him for a moment quizzically, as the memory of what they'd been doing came to him the King's face relaxed. "Yes, please." He touched the bridge of his nose and pondered how it was he was becoming so forgetful. When Devon held out the snifter to him he took it with little reservation.

Devon took a seat in one of the large leather winged back chairs before the fireplace that leapt to life. "How I do appreciate the comforts of your home." He mused putting his boots up on an ottoman. "To your health, cousin," he toasted the preoccupied King.

"And yours, cousin." Jareth raised his glass but didn't put it to his lips. His mind was drifting again.

"What was her name?" Devon asked quietly, watching Jareth like a hawk.

"Name?" The Goblin King repeated looking at the man seated so comfortably in the study. "Whose name would that be?"

"The donor of the dreams," Devon sipped his brandy slowly, knowing a good brandy should never be rushed. After his sip, he swirled the liquid and watched it go around the glass in his hand.

Jareth made a face; "Damned if I remember." He lied and placed his untouched brandy down. Clasping his hands behind his back he began to pace in front of the fireplace.

Blue eyes that had seen more of this elusive Fae than most others darkened. "Do you really believe me a fool, cousin?"

Jareth paused his pacing, looked as if he were caught in his own web of lies and sighed. "Sarah." Try as hard as he could, he couldn't say the name without it sounding like a verbal caress.

The other looked at the Goblin King and with one brow cocked upward asked, "Doesn't that name mean…. Princess?" Jareth nodded, seeming to become lost in a thought with a wistful smile playing at the corner of his mouth. Devon, suddenly wanting to play devils' advocate asked in a low growl; "Was she pretty?"

The question unnerved Jareth a bit, and he shrugged. "No more so than any other mortal girl. Average I'd say."

Feeling as if he'd won a point in a very strange game, Devon snorted. "I very much doubt that. I can not see you Jareth King of the Goblin Realm obsessing over an average girl. So, she was pretty."

Closing his eyes, her image came sharply to the forefront. That perfectly oval shaped face, the eyes a shade of emerald green unlike any other he'd ever known. Lips that were bow shaped and full ready to be kissed. He recalled them parted in surprise and wonderment as she'd traversed a crystal ballroom. He had longed to kiss those lips, and that too had surprised him. Everything about that little girl had surprised him. "No," He confessed. "She was beautiful." The dull ache he'd felt when she rejected him had returned with a vengeance. 'Too young to understand what was offered and much too young to keep.' He thought bitterly to himself before remembering he had indeed taken her first kiss from her; a kiss stolen in the night, as he had stolen her dreams and imprisoned them in the orb. Slowly he began to pace before the fireplace again, no longer aware of it or it's warmth.

Devon sipped his brandy again, as the other began to pace again he gave voice to his observations. "You're obsessed with this donor and her dreams… why?" At first the man asking the questions didn't really think they would be answered. The look on his cousin's face was stubborn and unmoving, yet in the beautiful mismatched eyes was a flicker of something, something unnamed.

Jareth placed a hand to the mantel, and one to his forehead. "I suppose it does only seem natural that I am still fixated upon her… she is after all, the only challenger who ever reached the castle and win back a child."

Whatever Devon had been expecting Jareth to say, this was not it. He sputtered as the last sip of brandy caught and lodged in his throat burning like wildfire; "She what?" he barked.

Closing the pained eyes, the Fae King bowed his head. "She reached the castle and won back the wished away child." An instant later he opened his eyes and reached for his brandy downing it in one gulp.

Devon lowered his feet to the floor and steadied his own hands. "Cousin, no one at court has heard of this…." His voice was conscientious and cautious. "How is that possible?"

Jareth sent the crystal snifter into the hearth, "I know… it took a great deal of doing, but I kept it under wraps…." He sat down looking very tired. "The Goblins didn't want it brandied about, fearing repercussions. Seems the little buggers like having me as King… so we formed a conspiracy of silence…" He pinched the bridge of his nose once more. "I had to tamper with the memories of my subjects who came into contact with the girl… my subjects who were not Goblin that is. Goblins know when to keep their tongues, Fae and Elf, not so much."

"She came into contact with your subjects?" Devon leaned back once more.

"Indeed she did," Jareth wore a faint, almost wistful smile now remembering the girl's adventure. "She tamed a beast, turned a coward into a brave little traitor, and even charmed a certain diligent knight, just to name a few of her exploits."

Devon snickered, "Didymus? How is the old cur?"

"Old." Jareth said sadly. "I regret having to tamper with his memory most of all…" He leaned on his elbow and placed his chin in his cupped hand. "I should have liked to allow him to keep his memory of the girl…"

"Wait, if this girl, this mortal bested you, how did you end up with her dreams?" Devon asked narrowing his eyes at the cousin he'd been sent to observe, he knew full and well he was not going to report any of this to the courts.

"She had to pay a price for winning, cousin." A strange far away look overcame the King, "I offered her, her dreams." He could feel the pull of the orb even now. He shook himself free of the pull, his voice shook with disappointment and the pain of rejection still fresh even after a year. "Sarah turned me down… she refused her dreams… so since I could not have the boy, and she was unwilling… I…" He ended not willing to go on.

Devon closed his eyes. "I understand." He opened his eyes and looked at Jareth. "I never heard a word," he vowed quite solemnly. He exhaled and groaned. "What are you going to do with the orb?"

"I shall put it aside, as you've suggested…" he lied, and he knew it was a lie. Looking at his cousin he was just about certain that Devon also knew it was a lie, however it was not something the other Fae seemed inclined to question at the moment.

Devon sipped his drink once more. "I hear Lady Brockton is holding a poetry reading," he changed the subject smoothly. "I do believe we should attend, don't you?"

"It would be a pleasant distraction," agreed the Goblin King quietly.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Jareth lay on his bed in the murky darkness; the orb containing Sarah's dreams in his bare hands the only lamination in the room. Placing the orb to his own brow he sighed heavily. Devon was right the orb was a dangerous distraction, almost addictive. He knew it would be best to place it in a wooden cask and deposit it in one of the many treasure caches. "Damn you little girl; why must you inconvenience me so," he asked as he lowered the orb to view it. "Why can't I free myself of you?" His face looked worn, nearly as worn as it had when she'd refused him in the destroyed remains and ruins of the Escher stair room. The orb containing the dreams grew warm and one of the many flickering dreams rushed forward to be viewed. The dejected King mused that it was strange indeed that the dreams of the very creature that'd rejected him were the only thing that seemed to give him comfort.

"I never thought you could win," he lamented as he watched. "How I would have treasured you. I'd have taken such pleasure in fulfilling your dreams," His hand with the egg sized orb dropped to his side, leaving him in the darkness as he buried it under a cover. "I am so tired of regrets," He moaned softly. "You stave and near exhaust me, still." Rolling over he let the long kept tears that had welled up spill silently onto his pillow until tearless he finally gave in to sleep.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Devon was not alone in his bed; he was entertaining yet another wench. He'd not used the same one in the time he'd been here. He preferred not to become too attached to any one wench, as there was no future in it. He looked at the creature who had given him her body willingly; her eyes told him she was willing for more. Devon stood up shamelessly ignoring his naked state. He tossed her garments to her callously. "Thank you, Marta that was amusing and pleasurable. You may go now." He dismissed her as coolly as his heat had been while he'd been moments ago.

"I could stay," she offered slightly offended at being dismissed.

Devon placed a hand under her chin and gave her a smile. "Thank you, no."

She struggled into her shift, "Yes, Lord Devon." It didn't take much to see she was disappointed.

Devon watched her go, and looked at the mess they had made of the bed. He smiled as he wandered back to snuggle into the havoc of the pillows and blankets. He stretched and was thankful the girl was gone. Once his sexual appetite was fed, he was through with the wenches. The candles in his chamber lowered their flames and soon he was in the dark, wondering what his cousin was doing. He whispered a prayer to the Goddess that he'd be wise enough to follow through and put the orb away. However he doubted that any man would not be attracted to the lure of the orb. "Poor man," he sighed getting comfortable and allowing sleep to claim him.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

It was barely dawn when Jareth awoke finding the orb flickering away beside him. He rose from the bed, cranky for having slept in his day clothes. He left the orb where it lay, and went to his private bath. His valet, a handsome young elf with skin like alabaster greeted him and helped him undress for his bath. Sinking into the warm waters he felt the pains and aches ease.

"Rondo," he addressed the Elf quietly. "I should like to make some changes to my wardrobe. There are some garments I've grown tired of and have no wish to wear again. I shall give you a list, see to it they are gone."

"As you wish, my King," the lad nodded peacefully.

Once he'd left his bath, draped in the soft, long, and wide drying clothe, Jareth sat in his bed chamber and looked about it as well. "I think I'll do some redecorating." He announced to no one in particular, except perhaps to himself. He was of a habit of talking to himself when ever he felt he needed to convince himself of a plan of action. Picking up the orb and casually tossing it up and catching it a few times he mused. "This chamber bores me now." He looked at the pleasantly appointed chamber. "I'm no longer in the mood for such puerile and juvenile furnishings." The large comfortable four poster in English oak bed that took up the center of the sleeping chamber vanished. In its place was something dark and evil looking, and much larger. The new bed was ebony, with a head board and posts that were ornately carved depicting something that looked like Dante's descent into Hell. The heavy silks that had covered the other bed were replaced with heavy satin and velvets in black and red and deep burgundy brocades. He sent the mahogany accessories to his original set way and replaced them with the pieces that matched the new bed. He even darkened the walls from their cream color to that of ecru, darkening also the wooden frames and beams in the room. The room was very male now, and somewhat sinister but enticingly so, and had a sexual energy it had not displayed before.

Still draped in the long thick toweling, he strutted about the room to change some of the artwork he'd had up on the walls with paintings of a darker nature, more primitive and primal, some were rawly sexual. He decorated table tops with sculptures that left nothing to the imagination. Except for the night stand next to his bed that had but one thing upon its smooth polished top. It was a piece of dark smoky colored soapstone, a carved ornate stand into which he set the orb. Standing back to observe his handy work, he was almost simpering as he observed the changes. No one looking at the dark stand would think anything of it, and as he'd turned to orb so it was dormant, it looked just like any other crystal. He had dozens of them in and around the castle. It was after all one of the manifestations of his power, so having a crystal beside his bed would not be seen as unusual.

Stalking over to the armoire and pulling the doors open wide he inspected his garments. If he were going to make this work, he'd have to change everything about himself. He would no longer wear the tortured soul romantic poet shirts, although the breeches and his boots could be salvaged, most everything else was going to have to go. He magically piled all the discards, and called his valet in. "Get rid of these, I never want to see them again. Call for my tailor and my leather master, I've work for them." He announced as he pulled black doeskin breeches up his slender hips. While the valet went in search of the two men sent for, Jareth slipped into a high necked black linen shirt that he rarely wore, topping it with a tight brocade vest in dark burgundy red.

Looking in the mirror he approved the changes, until he looked up at his beautiful wild and free mane of hair. Schooling his face, and thinking of the greater good, he took his bare hands, ran them through his locks of hair, and tamed the look to something a bit more reserved and aloof. The long hair at the back of his hair he tied back in an elaborate leather thong. It was in this manner that he appeared when both the tailor and the leather smith arrived.

He stood before them with more poise and self possession than either man had ever witnessed. "Master Tailor," He addressed the little man with a measuring tape hung loosely from his neck. "I'm in a mood to change my attire." He barked out his desires and sent the man away looking for bolts of fabric from which to work. Jareth gave his attention to the leather smith who'd been standing silently. "I have always appreciated the Goblins leather skills." He motioned the man to come closer; on the table was an unrolled parchment with sketches of items the King wanted. "Do you think you could make these for me?"

The Goblin Leather Smith was a large Goblin, with the kind of face that gave on nightmares even in the daylight. He sneered a wide toothy grin. "Some of these items look evil…" He studied the parchment, and then looked at the King with a wide evil smile. "Decided to start acting, thinking and appearing like a Goblin, not just wearing the title?"

Ordinary Jareth would have cuffed the Goblin or worse, but seeing as he was making an effort to be more of what his people expected of him, he refrained, "Any objections?"

"Not a one," growled the leather smith; "Perhaps only a suggestion."

"And that would be?"

The large Goblin rolled up the parchment and tucked it into his tunic for safe keeping. "Read the chronicles of Zoltaire, you may find inspiration there."

Jareth had heard of Zoltaire, one of the last real Goblins to rule. He knew some of the history on this being. It was said that Zoltaire had an enormous appetite for life, and a libido to match. Smirking back at the leather smith the King nodded, "A good suggestion."

The leather smith bowed, "I will return in one hour with some of your order, Sire."

"Some of my order?" The King questioned. "How is that possible?"

Again the Goblin grinned frighteningly. "What you ask for is already made…"

"Anticipating my wishes?" the King joked.

"I have been making new armor for King," he quipped quickly. "Thought King may one day wish to be more than pretty face." He swaggered to the door; "One day has come."

An hour later true to his word the leather smith was holding some interesting garments for the King to try on. Boar-skin leather, soft as a glove and feeling like a second skin breeches, they laced up each thigh revealing the kings well developed buttocks muscles. Open vests in a almost bolero style, harnesses and an evil looking strap for the masters tool of arousal. The Goblin took great pride in introducing his King to the garments and some little gifts he's brought in homage…he called them toys. There were whips and floggers, paddles and canes, in leather and metal wood and reed. Jareth looked at the leather smith and murmured, "I'd best read these chronicles you wish me to read swiftly."

The Goblin leather smith chuckled, "I would."

Devon wandered into his cousin's chamber and halted in his steps. The change of décor startled the handsome golden haired Fae. "Gods in Hades what are you doing?"

Jareth turned, looked at him and shrugged; "Making a few adjustments."

Devon raised his brow as he looked about the transformed rooms of the Master of the Castle. "It's a giant step. Are you sure this is the direction you wish to go?"

"It's the only direction I can go," Jareth said joining his cousin in inspecting the changes. "It has to be a complete change or my plan will never work."

"Plan?" Devon looked at Jareth with troubled eyes. "What plan would that be?"

Jareth motioned the other to be seated on one of the many heavy chairs. "I'm planning on heading off any more court gossip about me. I'll be attending court more often, as you suggested, Devon. And I'm going to begin having my own court functions again. You were right; I've sulked too long over…" He halted, and shifted back to the subject. "My leather smith said something, he asked if I'd decided to look, act and think like a Goblin instead of just wearing the title… and he was right. I've only been play acting up to now."

"Playacting?" Devon shook his head; "Cousin, you are one of the Royal Fae; you are not a Goblin…"

"I am the Goblin King, and perhaps it's time I started to seriously behave as if I knew what that meant." Jareth stated firmly.

Devon took a long ragged breath, "Jareth, do you mean to tell me you're going to allow this Kingdom to return to some of its former practices?"

"Indeed," Jareth lounged back in the chair, looking more incredibility sexy and alluring than he had before. "I'm going to study the texts and chronicles of former Goblin Kings…" He motioned about the now overtly male room. "This is just a beginning."

A wicked smile came to Devon's handsome face, "I think it will prove not only interesting to see how this transformation goes over at Court, but is should be most entertaining to see you put into practices the … old ways." He looked about the room once more, and nodded. "Yes, it's a nice start… and if you keep the motif going throughout the whole castle… it could be wickedly delicious." He leaned back in the chair, his head rolling to one side as he looked lazily over at Jareth. "I approve… not that you really need my approval."

Jareth snickered, "I don't, but I rather appreciate your support, cousin." He had seen Devon look about the room critically and then accept. He had looked right at the orb and not recognized it for what it was. Hiding in plain sight was the addictive orb that had occupied him for an entire year and then some. Jareth knew that he could view the dreams in private and that would have to do… He had a transformation to put the last touches on. That was going to take all his concentration during waking hours; he'd leave the dreams of the girl for his sleeping hours. "Devon, I invite you to extend your visit," Jareth said thoughtfully. "I'd rather like your input on some ideas I've got in the works."

"As I've little else to do, not having a Kingdom of my own, I accept." Devon said generously. "What would you like to do first?"

Rising from the chair Jareth motioned the young Fae Lord to follow him. "We've some investigating to do in the castle library. I'm told the scrolls of Zoltaire are still kept there. My leather smith suggested it as… good reading."

Devon chuckled, wickedly.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

The master of the library was surprised when he saw the King enter the chamber of scrolls. In the entire time Jareth had been King, he'd never once stepped foot into this part of the castle. "Is something amiss?" it was as he came closer that he noticed the change in the King's attire. "My King wishes something?" The old scribe was a Hobgoblin, and more than a little elf blood flowed in his veins. He was tall and his skin was yellowed like aged parchment. His black and slivery eyes narrowed as his lips thinned when he spoke.

Jareth looked at the man and found he'd forgotten the name of this scribe. "You've a name?"

"I am called the Scholar Lutin, Sire." He bowed to his King reverently.

"Lutin," Jareth placed a hand to the scholar's shoulder. "I require the scrolls of Zoltaire."

Once more the scholar scrutinized the attire of the King, his black and slivery eyes slowly moving up to the King's face. "Thee wishes to become more Goblin." It was a statement not a question, and the face of the old scholar began to fiendish joy. "I shall be only too happy to bring to you the texts you require, my King." He ushered the monarch toward a large circular table in the center of the great chamber. "If you would make yourself comfortable, I shall go get the scrolls… is there any order in which you should like to receive them?"

Taking a seat in a high back, throne like chair, Jareth looked at the scholar. "Lutin, why don't you be the judge of that." He challenged.

"I am most honored," growled the old Hobgoblin as he turned and wandered into one of the catacomb chambers where scrolls were stored.

Devon leaned toward Jareth, "You've never stepped in here, have you?"

"Never," the King sighed looking somewhat ashamed. "I've had too much fun over the last few centuries. Now, I think it's time I got down to the real work of being the Goblin King."

Devon glanced about the chamber. "I can just see the High King's face now when he hears you've decided to behave like a grownup." He looked back at Jareth and smiled. "It's going to give the old boy a headache."

"I'm not well liked in the High Courts," stated the young Fae King. "I never cared about that before… and I find now I'll be able to use that dislike and distrust to my advantage."

The other inquired; "How so?"

"I want these changes that I'm making to seem as if they were coming along all along. The fact that no family of good reputation wishes an alliance with me is a benefit. I want it to be seen that I am sinking into the Goblin mire." He stated harshly. "I want the Fae touch to recede from the Kingdom, and to do that I need to emerge myself in the Goblin ways. I have to return the castle to its former Goblin Glory. I won't be able to do that if I've got Fae families wanting an alliance with one of the High Court Royals…"

"I see," Devon stated becoming serious. "As my lands are within your realm, I'd like to know if your changes are going to affect the status of land rights?"

"No," Jareth tapped his hands on the table in a strange rhythm. "The High Court would send investigators and muck things up if I challenged the land rights. Besides I've a good many… Fae of questionable back grounds within the Kingdom, and I have no desire to make them refugees once more. They came here for sanctuary, and it was granted… It's the castle itself that will be most changed."

The other young Fae relaxed a bit. "That's good to know."

Jareth gave him a cocky smile. "I have no wish to piss off the High Court," he said swiftly. "I just want to take back some of the rights and powers of the Goblins."

"You mean beyond the business of pranks and peskiness and gathering the wished away and unwanted?" Devon inquired softly.

"Indeed," Jareth continued to tap on the table. "The Goblins at one time were as great a warrior as we of the _**Tuatha Dé Danann**_. Both our races have become less than we were when we were at war."

"You don't mean to start a war, Goblin against _**Tuatha Dé Danann**_, do you?" A moment of panic showed on the handsome face, as blue eyes darkened.

Stormy mismatched eyes met the darkened blue. "No, but I will allow my Goblin forces to go forth once more into the mortal plane and wreak a little havoc." He tapped harder. "It's time we stopped allowing the mundane to think of us as pretty and sweet little creature with no substance."

"Half the mortal realm does not even believe in our existence," scoffed the young Fae Lord. "And what part do you wish me to play here, cousin?"

"I should like to elevate your status to King's advisor." Jareth stated, "Give you a title of Baron… yes, I like that. The Lord Baron Devon _**Tuatha Dé Danann,**_ High advisor to the Goblin King__"

Knowing such a title would force him to stay in the Goblin realm more than he had before, Devon snickered. "You play a dangerous game, cousin."

"They are the only games worth playing, cousin." Jareth quipped in reply. "Do you accept?"

Devon nodded, "I should like to see the face of the High Court when your proclamation is announced."

"You shall." Jareth said coldly. "For you shall be at my side when I deliver the news my self."

Devon's head fell back as he laughed.

Lutin found them laughing wickedly and smiled at a quiet thought. "I am so glad my master is in good humor." He said placing the first arm load of scrolls down. "I've more scrolls and text for him to make himself familiar with."

"Lutin," Jareth place his gloved hand on the scholar's sleeve. "I need a currant map of the Kingdom and one form the time of Zoltaire, is that possible?"

"Of course, my King," the Hobgoblin rushed to another catacomb chamber selected two parchments and raced back to where the King was seated. "Your scrolls Sire."

Unrolling the first, Jareth found himself looking at the lands and markings set down as they were at the time of the great Goblin King and the Great Goblin Age. He smiled as he shook his head, "I want this framed," He ordered. "I'll be using it in my private offices." He then opened the other scroll and frowned. There in several paces things had been marked with the name Sarah. He looked over at the scholar with a scowl. "How is it possible that this name is on my map? I erased her from the memory of those she touched."

"You can erase her from memory, Sire," agreed the scholar coldly. "However you can not erase her from fact. I am only a scholar, but I must and do keep accurate records of the King's exploits. Whether they are successes or failure," he pointed to the map Jareth had unrolled in front of him. "If it pleases you, we can place an enchantment on the scroll that only you and a few select others will ever see the name that is there."

Jareth crossed his arms. "How is it you even know of the girl, you had no occasion to meet her, did you?"

The odd old scholar sighed, almost as if bereaved. "Alas no," he said at last. "I live here within this chamber, I never leave the castle grounds, I am bound to the castle… no I had not met the girl. I did however follow your Majesty's encounter from beginning to end and record it was is my duty."

"You must explain that to me some time," Jareth replied. "I take it I am not allowed to tamper with the memory of the Royal Goblin Court Scribe and Scholar."

"No Sire, you are not…" admitted the old one. "It was found long ago that Goblins like their history unvarnished, and an enchantment was put into place so that who ever was the historic recorder would not be…swayed…shall we say?"

"It was a good precaution." Jareth agreed. "Are you alone here?"

"No Sire," the old man smiled at his King. "I have my family, a wife and two sons who are in training to be scribes to your court."

"A family business," Devon merrily quipped.

"Indeed," agreed the scholar. "I apprenticed to my father, and he to his, and so on and so forth back to the first King of the Realm." He stated this fact with more than a little pride. There has been no one else in any other Goblin blood line to serve as the King's Scribe, Scholar and keeper of the History."

"But you're not a Bard," protested Devon.

"Bards don't keep strict history;" Informed the tolerant old Hobgoblin. "Bards have been known on occasion to shall we say embellish the truth. And while that may work for the Humani, and the Fae, it does not work for Goblin races."

"Weave the enchantment that is needed, Scribe." Commanded the Goblin King in a voice that was suddenly very authoritative; "This information goes no further… I will allow only my Lord Baron Devon to have knowledge of it outside of your staff."

"As you wish," The scholar bent over to bow to his King.

"See to it that this map is also framed." Jareth handed the parchment to his Scribe.

"Separately or together?"

Jareth paused, thought then pronounced; "Side by side in the same frame." He waved the scribe off and placed his hand on the first scroll to be opened. "This is the role call of the Goblin Clans and septs. It also has the first listings of refugees from other mystical kingdoms and races." He said as he read over the role. "Fascinating, it has a list of all the races that were here when the Kingdom was first claimed."

Standing up and reading over the King's shoulder, Devon saw something that caught his attention. "Look, some of these clans were much higher back than… they seem to have lost favor when the first Fae Kings took charge. I wonder why."

"The first Fae King of the Kingdom was a _**Tuatha Dé Danann**_ warrior… I don't believe his successor was." Jareth said in a monotone. "Lutin, do we have a King's roll?"

"Yes, Sire," he was coming into the chamber with a wide scroll in his hands. "I anticipated your need of this. It has the dates of each King's ascent, and his departure whether by death or other means." He shrugged, "Goblins died, Fae… just left."

"No Fae King has ever passed the crown on?" Jareth asked incredulously. Lutin shook his head. "Unbelievable," muttered the King.

"Few," Lutin murmured at the King's ear; "Were ever as acclimated to our ways or as tolerant of our ways as thee, Sire." He straightened up and shrugged again. "We are not well liked."

"I like the Goblins," Devon said a bit defensively. "I live here by choice, not by decree."

"Those of your race who choose to come here have unspoken ties to the Kingdom, my Lord." Lutin acknowledged.

Jareth had opened the second scroll while his cousin was speaking. His face changed as he began to read the exploits of the great Goblin Age. "My, my…." He muttered. "What a rowdy bunch they were."

Devon looked away from the scribe and back to the scroll being read. "Oh, I'd have loved to have seen that!"

"There are woodcuttings," the scribe piped suggestively.

Motioning the scribe closer, the King growled in an aroused tone. "Bring them."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Hours later the King and his cousin took a meal break. They sat in the King's private dinning room. "I'm going to have to arrange to change this as well," Jareth observed as he sipped a goblet of ale. "To Fae, needs to be darker, more primal."

"Too bad," Devon sighed. "I was always rather fond of this room." He leaned back in his chair and smirked. "So you're intending to pattern the rest of your reign after that of Zoltaire?"

Jareth nodded, "I shall take the next month to rearrange the palace and the kingdom. Then I shall descend on the High Court with a full entourage in tow, and deliver the first of my proclamations to the High King." He pointed to his cousin decisively. "It's time for the High Court to take the Goblin Throne seriously once more. And it's high time the Goblins came back into their own…"

"And you're just the man to lead them," his cousin toasted him. "To Jareth _**Tuatha Dé Danann Huukec Mec,**_ Warrior King!"

Jareth inclined his head, accepting the praise and toast; "Long may I reign."

Devon had been giving thought to a problem. "You have interlopers on the boarders; do you intent to… punish them?"

"I will give them a choice, join me or be destroyed." The King stated in an icy tone. "No more will we tolerate the disrespect shown our throne."

The handsome newly appointed Baron looked pleased. "I could do with a little war," He said in a dark tone. "My sword has too long been clean."

"There's been too much peace," agreed the King. "Warriors get fat or lazy when there's no conflict. There are no advances when there's no struggle. I mean to drag the Goblins back up to their former glory."

"What is on the agenda for this afternoon?" Devon asked. "Will you need my aide?"

The Goblin King shook his head as he ate his mid-day meal. "No cousin, you are free to your own devices…. I'll be redecorating the throne room and public rooms…. It's time to get rid of the froufrou… and get down to Goblin basics. This is the Goblin Kingdom, not the Fairylands of Avalon."

Devon nodded, and still lamented the changes that were at hand. "I will miss the soft elegance."

"I won't," Jareth sneered. "I look forward to the more primal… something feral… to feed the darkness that is encompassing my soul."

"From dungeon to tower?" the other asked.

Jareth nodded, "I'll be stopping back at the library Lutin has a few descriptions of the chambers as they were in the days of Zoltaire… I wish to embellish upon them and make my own dark mark."

"This should be interesting." He mused. "Do you intend to change my bedchamber as well cousin?"

"Not until your departure to your own home," Jareth said with consideration. "However when you stay with me next the room will not be quite so," he cleared his throat. "Charming," he said the word with a good amount of distain.

"As long as it's comfortable, I'll have no complaints," Devon assured him.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Jareth had studied the notes, and had taken down things he wanted to remember. He knew it was not going to be an easy job, but it was one that had to be undertaken. He wanted the Kingdom to be taken seriously and getting rid of all the Fae touches was the first step. He started at the steps of the castle, and looked at the entry doors. He'd never taken the time before he'd never really noticed the glamour enchantment that had been in place. Raising his hand he broke the spell as only a Fae King could. Before him were now two ornately Goblin carved doors in dark woods. It was at that moment he looked at the walls of the castle. "Let's get you cleaned up and see what we have." He muttered and focused on the weathered and worn walls. The grime fell away revealing the heavy outer walls were constructed of a ancient form of mud cement and had carvings and runes gored into the entry way arch. It was beyond impressive, bordering on damn scary. The faces of the carvings were faces frozen in terror and pain. Jareth smiled, and looked at the excitement gave him a glow. "Devon, get out here! You've got to see this." He bellowed.

Sticking his head out his chambers' window, Lord Devon, clearly naked and busy shouted back. "I'm indisposed, cousin."

"Just look down!" Suggested the Goblin King.

Devon looked and gasped. "Good Goddess," he looked at the arch about his window. "Has this been there all along?"

"Indeed," Jareth crossed his arms over his chest, and gazed at his castle with newfound pride of ownership. "I'm going to love being King."

Devon turned back to the little housemaid who was his afternoon's playmate. "King for more than two centuries, and now he decides he loves the job." He scoffed.

The female in Devon's bed smiled at him playfully. "What do you love, Lord Baron?"

News of the new title had already been passed among the serving staff. Devon lowered himself back upon the willing partner. "That's not a word I brandy about, my little elf." His voice was serious. "I've no desire to become acquainted with it."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Jareth and Lutin stood before the castle with drawings and blueprints and hand written notes in hand. "And that tower there, the one that is so isolated, what material was it in originally?" the King asked.

"Ivory, if the notes are correct… mastodon Ivory, hand laid and inlaid with opal joiners. There are scrimshaw etchings and carvings in the tower. And the tiles on the little turret top were opal, may still be for all I know." Lutin went over the records. "The grime of years of Kings who didn't care cover it."

"I'll take care of that." Jareth closed his eyes and focused his center. Eyes still sealed he asked. "How's it look?"

Lutin gasped in awe, "Magnificent…what a shame something so lovely has such an evil and tortured past."

The Ivory tower stood blazing in the Goblin sunset. Jareth opened his eyes and turned to his scribe. "Evil and tortured past?"

"That tower was where Zoltaire kept his…." He sought for a word.

"Concubine?" offered the King.

Lutin shook his head in refusal of the word. "The woman was no concubine… she was used and tortured and broken… she was…" he used the Goblin words as they had the strongest meaning. "She was the _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan.**_"

Jareth looked at the tower, a sneer on his lips. "_**Slave of Bondage,**_" moving closer he felt an urge to explore. "And the only means of entry is that widow?"

"Yes, that is why there have always been a company of Harpy guards here." Lutin said.

Jareth transformed into the shape of an owl and soared up to the window and in becoming a man again once within. The room in the tower was of a fair size but had little in the way of accommodations. A bed, big enough for two, but not luxurious in any way shape or form, a table that looked sturdy but not fancy and a few chairs. A side chamber held a bathing area and privy. Focusing the King returned the chamber to the state it had been in with its last occupant. The walls were covered in glyphs depicting the Goblin Zoltaire and his taste in sexual torture. Jareth touched the glyphs and took a deep breath. "Who was she, this _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_? And what did she do to deserve such harsh treatment…I wonder?"

After returning to the ground he turned to the Scribe. "You may return to your library, I'm going to have the Harpies come to the throne room for a formal meeting."

Lutin nodded, "I would suggest a change of costume…Sire… One should be fiercer than the guest."

Jareth nodded as he made his way back to the castle. "I agree, and I know just the outfit to put the Harpies bitches on notice."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5. ****Jareth **_**Tuatha Dé Danann Huukec Mec,**_** Warrior King**

Aello had scoffed at and torn up the invitation from the castle beyond the Goblin City. She had long called he who sat upon the throne a pompous pampered pretender. She was slightly insulted that it had taken him so long to acknowledge her, and so she was now ready to dismiss him. Aello was far older than the Fae King, and saw herself as more worthy of the throne. However as the High King held more power, she accepted or at least tolerated the indignity of being a subject to one she felt was her inferior. She was a proud woman, leader of a proud clan, albeit small, and arrogantly she chose to ignore the 'pretenders' invitation.

More and more her once raven plumage was turning white, and her talons were showing little knots of gnarly tissue forming. She was getting old, and soon she would have to pass her role on to one of the younger females. Her once sharp teeth were beginning to twist and turn, some had even lost there points. Her wings had long since felt the wind beneath them, and her legs had begun to show tremors. She had seen death in the distance, awaiting her. She didn't fear death for herself, but for her people. Once the skies over the Goblin Realm was black with their wings, now only a handful of their race remained. The _**SheelanaGigs Clan **_would suffer she feared once she was gone, and that fate occupied her mind far more than the pretty little Fae King.

The Clan had made its nesting in the honeycomb of caves in the hills above the western ridge of the Labyrinth. Once they had hunted freely, within and without the boarders. But after the last great true Goblin King, they had been forced to live off the scavenging of others. It had been degrading, and demoralizing, and worse it had caused them to lose members who found they could not live the tame life that was being enforced upon them. It was now down to the bear bones, and only a few of the females were even still breed-able, if they could find something worth mating with. Aello stepped slower now, it hurt to move too fast, and she knew her time was limited. The hard hand hewed caves were almost too painful for her to move over, and her wings were as useful as those of a clipped swan, beautiful to look at, but useless all the same.

"Mother," her eldest daughter stood looking at her with worry.

Aello gazed at the female who should be getting ready to take over the clan and instead was at this moment playing nurse made to the ailing Mother. Iris was the image of a warrior Queen, lean and fit. Her body was built for speed and her wing span amazing. Aello knew the younger female had taken to flying at night, and raiding unsuspecting boarder trespassers. She didn't scold, for the fresh meat kept the clan alive. Isis had eyes like a hawk, and her wings were dark as night. She wore only a shift here in the caves, but Aello knew she would fly naked, not wishing anything to get tangled in or with anything. "I'm alright Iris." She muttered a bit gruffly, her bitterness spilling into her tone.

Iris shook her head, knowing better. "You've not fed," she held out her hand, it contained a fresh heart and a lung from Gods knows what creature. "You must feed."

Aello turned away, not able to even look at the food offered. It was humiliating and shameful to that she now had to rely on hand outs to feed upon. She, who had once been a fierce huntress in her own right, was now a charity case.

Iris lowered the offerings, wishing she had the heart to end her mother's suffering. "I think you're wrong Mother." She stated looking at the shadow of her mother moving in the cave.

The Clan leader turned her dark eyes quizzical. "Do you? He is nothing, a pretender! He's a Fae… what interest should I have in anything they say…it is because of them we… parish." Gathering the tattered material she wore about her thinning body, she challenged. "What would you have done, Iris?"

The younger Harpy didn't back down, she stood the ground as she'd been taught back in an age when Harpies were feared and respected. "I'd have heard him out, Mother. What can it hurt to hear what he has to say?"

The old Harpy growled under her breath and limped off to a corner to think. The sun was sinking behind the hills and soon it would be night. The Goblin pretender would realize he'd been snubbed. She took a long ragged breath, smiling to herself. At least she could still hold onto her pride.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Devon arrived at the King's private study expecting to find him pouring over more of the texts that Lutin had supplied him with. Jareth was not however, he was lounging in a chair seemingly looking off into space. "What are you doing?" Devon asked as he took a seat near the fire.

"Thinking on a problem," the Goblin King stated; "How to keep the Harpies in line."

"Whips and chains," his amused cousin suggested grinning broadly.

Jareth gave the suggestion a moment to sink in but discarded it just as quickly as it had been offered. "I'm serious Dev; I need them to… tow the line, as it were." His exasperation was beginning to show. "I need them," he muttered to himself.

"You've got a reason for being so worried about how Harpies behave?" Devon

Jareth lowered his new dragon hide boots to the floor, standing to pace as it helped him think. "I'm ready to speak to the High King," he murmured. "It's time for the Kingdom to come back into its own; I've chosen Solstice as our day of declaration."

Knowing how much work his cousin had poured into amassing the information he'd been studying for the last few weeks, Devon was not surprised to hear of the intentions. "What do Harpies have to do with any of this?"

Jareth turned to the other, his face schooled in what he knew was a dignified and aristocratic expression he answered with a new tone in his voice. "I intend to have Harpies in my personal guard when we present ourselves to the High Court."

Once more Devon was glad he had nothing in his mouth. In the past eight weeks his cousin had surprised him to the point of choking once on a cherry pit. "I see."

"No, you don't," sighed the Goblin King resigned that he alone was aware of the measures necessary to unite his unique kingdom. He motioned the newly appointed Lord Baron over to the desk and pointed to some pages with what looked to be family trees. They were in fact the hierarchy of the Goblin Kingdom. "Harpies once ranked very high in the courts of Zoltarie. It is written that one of his advisors was the Harpy Matron."

"The mother of the clan that remains here," Devon asked looking over the charts seeing more than he was intending to see.

"Aello, the present clan leader is her direct descendant," Jareth nodded. "While she's been less than respectful of me and she does not completely trust me or my motives."

"Should she?"

A wisp of a smile moved across the lips of the King; "Of course not, I'm a Fae, there's little likely hood of me changing, is there now?" He spread another chart. "This is the most recent census, clans, clan leaders and so forth. I want two representatives from each of the higher clans in my royal procession."

Devon let a long whistle sound as he looked at the chart. "Cousin, that's unheard of… you've got Hobgoblins and Harpies and Glashtins… Harpies have been known to eat them you know!"

"Hence my turmoil," Jareth unbuttoned the tight vest he was sporting. "I've a meeting set up this evening with Aello to discuss a mutual accord."

"What's in it for the Harpies?" Devon asked taking a light seat on the edge of the desk.

"A voice," Jareth muttered.

Devon shook his head, "I don't see this as viable." He warned sharply. "So far none of the Fae who dwell here has voiced opposition to your new ways. However, allowing lower forms such as Harpies a voice in the running…."

"They have more right to a voice than the Fae do," corrected the young King ill-temperedly. "They and the Goblin races were here long before the High King claimed this place."

"Jareth," Devon's voice was low and reasoning. "Don't forget you're a Fae."

"I am the Goblin King, Devon." He stated crossing his arms, acting more like a King than he'd ever had. "I am not just a Fae, nor am I just one of the High King's Royals… I am the Goblin King… I never gave much credence to this title before. I've whined and thrown temper tantrums and bewailed my misfortune…I played… but I'm not playing anymore. Uncovering the walls of this castle under the grime we Fae allowed to accumulate awoke something in me… a sense of pride in this… My Kingdom."

"Pride goeth before a fall," warned his cousin lightly.

"Which is why I have to impress upon Aello the importance of cooperation," the King took a seat behind the desk. "You read the texts I've read. Did I miss something? How was it Zoltarie was able keep all the lines in place and thriving?"

"Why Zoltarie cousin? Why use him as the example on which you base your reign?" Devon challenged softly. "The first Fae King was not so bad, he held the Kingdom in peace…"

"He was the beginning of its dismantling," Jareth spat bitterly. "Devon because of the Fae interference we've nearly lost the essence of what the Goblin Kingdom was and should be. Look at the censuses from the days of Zoltarie and then compare them with each of the Fae Kings that follow. The only time they didn't decrease is when I took the throne… but they have not increased… and the Goblins are looked upon with scorn by the other Underground Kingdoms."

Jareth moved toward the window that was a depiction of the great Goblin Age. "Zoltarie held the Kingdom, and was respected, even by the Fae High King. During his time the Kingdom flourished, and that's what I want…" He looked back to Devon. "To achieve what I have in mind, I must get cooperation from all the clans and races that live under my rule. Starting with the Harpies."

Devon mused quietly to himself, "You could use the tactic that Zoltarie used, dress in a Harpy wing feather cloak."

Jareth moved closer. "What did you just say?"

Looking up, confused the other Fae shook his head. "I don't know, what did I say?"

"A Harpy wing feather cloak?" Jareth asked.

Devon nodded and pointed to one of the scrolls, "I read that in there."

Returning to the desk Jareth reached for the scroll, unrolled it and read carefully. "How did I miss this?" he asked as he went over the text. "This is bloody brilliant, I wonder if the cloak still exists?" He rang for his house Steward, when the man was standing before him he asked; "The belongings of Zoltarie, where are they stored?"

Philo, like Lutin was of Hobgoblin descent, and his family had served in the castle for generations. "They in the reserves vaults, Sire. A series of vaults kept in the lower bowls' of the palace. We store all artifacts from each reign there, unless they are in use."

Jareth's eyes were lit with excitement. "Show them to me Philo, the ones that were for Zoltarie."

Devon protested, "Jareth you don't have time to be looking at storage rooms… you've a meeting with the Harpy Matron, remember?"

Jareth waved a hand at him, "I know, but I doubt that she means to keep the meeting…" He turned to Philo, "I need to bring that bird to attention do you think Zoltarie's cache contains items that would help?"

Grinning like only a Goblin could, Philo nodded, "I do believe so, my King." He bowed deeply. "I'd be most honored to show your Majesty the way."

"Come Devon," shouted Jareth as he followed the steward; "We've a reception to plan."

Wincing as he followed, Devon muttered under his breath. "What have I gotten myself into?"

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Iris could feel the approach of two others and she knew they too were worried about the Matron, the mother of the Nest. "Speak," she commanded sounding as regal as her mother had once been.

"Lady Iris," one of the younger females whispered. "She is wasting away, she would not wish this."

Iris shrugged. "I'm aware, Sadeka."

The second Harpy was a bit older, and she placed a hand on Iris's shoulder. "Sister, we fear the end of our age is near."

"Matron is aware." Iris stated and turned to the one who had placed her hand on her. "Delia, gather the breeding females…. I will speak to them."

Sadeka looked toward the place where the matron sat gazing at the now lowered sun. "And what of her?"

Iris pulled her wings in tightly, drew up to her full height. "The Matron will understand." She said it with confidence she didn't feel, and prepared to turn.

The chamber of the cavern was filled unexpectedly and quite abruptly with a roar of sound that shook the very foundations of the hills they were nestled in. A burst of light was the next manifestation, overflowing blinding them all as the younger females put up their arms to protect their eyes. The Matron stood up, her mouth opened to sound an alarm or give an order and she was gone. Iris had seen her vanish and then the light too was gone and the sound died down.

Sadeka rushed to where the Matron had stood, "Where is the Matron?" she demanded in what came out like a crows caw.

Iris moved forward with resignation. "She's been called to the King." She bent down and picked up a single item from the floor, a tiny perfectly formed crystal bird. She showed it to the others. "Call the clan together," she said. "We will know soon if we are to live, or to die."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Aello had not expected the manifestation of power that had pulled her from the safety of her nesting caverns. Nor had she expected to be deposited in the heart of a golden cell. However that is where she found herself, in what to all intents and purposes looked just like a golden bird cage hanging from the rotunda ceiling in the circular throne room of the Goblin Palace. She was perched upon a contraption that looked very much like a bird swing. Once she able to get her bearings, she turned to glare at the being she was sure was responsible for this affront. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at the throne, expecting to see the pretender, dressed like a dandy. But that was not what she saw or why she gasped in startled astonishment and disbelieve.

Jareth sat in the Goblin throne, dressed in black Goblin Leather armor, and was draped in a cloak that was clearly the wing feathers of Harpies. "Kind of you to join me," He greeted the Matron.

His face was not as she remembered it; it was no longer boyish or foolish. It was the face of a man who had tasted something bitter, and that made him dangerous. "How dare you." She tried to growl but it came out a screech.

On either side of the King stood a large and brutal appearing Goblin of the warrior ranks, armed to the teeth and edgy. No longer did they appear foolish or slovenly, they had the look of hunger upon their faces. Jareth was unaffected by her outburst. "I was sure you'd find your accommodations," he paused looking for the right word. "Satisfactory."

Aello glared at the boy, but kept still on the perch to keep her balance. "What do you want, Fae King?"

"Goblin King," he corrected as he leaned back in the great ivory toped throne. "Goblin King, Lady Aello."

She scoffed and it came out like a caw. "You have no idea of what a Goblin King really is, fairy boy." She placed a hand on one of the chains holding the perch she was seat upon. "I've see your kind come and go…"

"You've never seen anything like me," he corrected her swiftly in a voice that shook the room. One of the Goblins standing at his side gave a low rumble in agreement.

Devon stood up in the gallery, watching. He had not wanted to be on the main floor, nor had he been invited to be. Jareth needed to present a clear picture of himself as a Goblin to the Matron, and having a Fae beside him would not do that. He felt a bit pushed aside, but chose to watch from the gallery where he was near at hand should his cousin need him.

The Matron paused, cocked her head to one side and without admitting anything showed that she was not prepared for this change of events. "What is it you want from me and mine, _**Goblin King**_?" She was working hard at hiding the tremors that were now racking her body.

"Your dying," Jareth said coldly.

"Anyone can see that," Aello rasped.

Jareth stood up, "Your race, not just you… When was the last time you fed?" He demanded.

"It has been… a while." The Matron conceded. Bitterly she turned her anger and humiliation on the King. "Your kind has kept us from freely feeding… and now… we suffer for it…I…have done what I could…"

"The Fae rules were wrong," Jareth growled darkly. "Wrong for the Goblin, wrong for the Harpy and for many others…. And they are wrong for me. I mean to change all that." He stood up and addressed the Matron. "I'm offing you life."

She looked at the cage, and scorned his offer; "As a kept bird in gilded cage? No thank you, Fairy boy."

Smiling he waved a hand, the cage dissolved and she was seated in a golden chair on the main floor. He seated himself and continued. "I've no need of songbirds, Matron. I need Harpies… in full health."

Intrigued the Matron gave him her attention. "What need?"

"I'm rebuilding the Kingdom, and I mean for the Harpy _**SheelanaGigs Clan**_ to take its rightful place once more." Jareth stated as if it were obvious.

"I'm too old and tired for pipe dreams," Aello sighed. "As you've observed, I'm dying."

"You wish your clan to die as well?" Jareth challenged leaning on one knee.

"Our fate is sealed," she sighed darkly. "Neither I nor you can change that Fairy Boy."

Jareth shook his head, "I'd have thought you'd have wanted one last chance for your children, I see I was wrong… or I plucked the wrong bird from the skies."

Insulted the old one unfurled her wings and with great effort spread them their full span. "You dare speak to me that way? I am far older than you, you prancing fop! I was a great warrior when you were in swaddling rags." She winced at the pain but kept her wings open wide.

Jareth raised a brow, "I'm impressed." He teased. "Now let's stop toying with each other old woman." He snapped his fingers and a servant brought a cup to the Matron. "Drink old one, it will nourish you."

Raising the goblet to her lips she sniffed, it was hot, fresh and bloody. "If this is my death…" she murmured.

"Hardly a fitting death for a great Matron and a warrior," Jareth accepted a goblet brought to him. "You've not fed, and it shows." He said sadly.

"Whose fault would that be?" she placed the cup to her lips and drank deeply of the warm brew. It went down and was welcomed by her inners. But she could not hold her wings up, nor hide the tremors that were now wracking her.

Jareth placed his cup down, "Matron, it is time you stepped down." He said sadly.

Aello's dark eyes closed and she nodded. "Past time," she admitted to the King.

"I will be sad to lose you," he assured her; "However neither you nor I, nor the _**SheelanaGigs Clan**_, can ill afford sentiment at this time." Jareth addressed her boldly. "Have you chosen a successor?"

"Iris, my eldest daughter should have succeeded me." The warmth of the brew gave her a bit of strength and she held her head high.

"I will call her to us, now…" he drew a crystal from the air and turned to the Matron gave her the only concession he could respectfully, "With your permission?" The once proud leader of the clan nodded. Jareth sent the bubble off and waited. "I regret it took me so long to see the truth, Matron."

"Do you see the truth now, Goblin fledgling?" she asked sipping the brew again. "Blood will be on your hands after this day, some of it my own."

"Had I been older and wiser," Jareth leaned heavily on his knees; "Perhaps I'd have opened my eyes before this… I was young and brash, and thought myself above it all… I longed for things that were right under my nose."

Aello sighed, "You may make a good king after all….Fairy boy."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

The clan met in the central chamber, Iris took a deep breath before informing the remaining members that her mother had been taken by the Goblin King. "We will know soon what he intends." She stated resigned to what ever fate awaited them.

"This is not right," protested one of her younger sisters. "To have to wait for the slaughter…"

"We do not know that is what awaits us," cautioned the elder.

Sadeka agreed with the younger Harpy. "What else could it be?"

Before the elder could answer a crystal bubble came floating into the cavern and the Goblin Kings voice was heard. "Lady Iris, your presence is required in the Goblin Castle. I suggest you bring an honor guard."

Sadeka growled as she scowled. "Who is he to make such a demand?"

Iris turned to her with a smile, "King." She snapped her fingers Delia, gather my guards… we go to pay a call on our… King."

Sadeka opened her wings wide. "I demand the right to face this… King."

Iris laughed at her, "With what?"

Delia chose six of the best and most fit females left. "I wish we had something better than rags to wear." She lamented.

Talons gripped what was left of the shift that had served the elder as a garment. She rendered it a rag that was useless and stood in naked glory. "I go as a Harpy, not a pet." Somewhere in the back of her mind, the young woman knew what was ahead of her. "Delia, you are in charge of the nesting, keep the young ones from following."

Delia shook her head and gathered the remainder of the females into the central chamber. Iris led the rest to the cavern opening. "Disrobe; we go as proud Harpies to face the fates." She looked at the sky with longing. "Once our numbers filled the skies and cast a mighty shadow…" She opened her wings and rose into the air, followed by her honor guard.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Goblins were slowly filing into the throne room, as if called by some silent alert. Jareth noticed there were many different class and breed of Goblin coming into the chamber. He had never spent much time before taking notice of how many clans or breeds dwelled in his Kingdom. He had been lax and it had cost them all, now he would begin the rebuilding of the Kingdom, and he would be far more diligent.

Aello sat proudly, waiting. She too noticed the gathering forces, no witnesses. She had read of such events, but with the winds of change had never hoped or dreamed that she's be participating in such and event. The death she'd envisioned was far less glorious, and this made her shiver with delight and anticipation. How odd it was, she mused that her final hours would be so glorious due to a Fae.

The sounds of wings on the wind filled the chamber, as seven winged creatures entered. Jareth was not surprised that they appeared naked, he was only saddened at how ill fed they appeared. For that he blamed himself, but would not discuss it with them or any other. He watched as the leader, the one called Iris approached.

"I am Iris, _**SheelanaGigs Clan's **_heir," the female spoke clearly. "You've something that belongs to me oh King."

Jareth was pleased; this one seemed to understand the greater meaning of this meeting. "I hold your title," he pointed to the old Harpy seated before him. "Are you ready to take it?"

Iris had fed; she'd kept the clan alive for the last fifty years, but had not yet bred. She looked at what was left of her mother and felt more than pity. "I am," her wings opened wide. The other Harpies who had come with her were aware of what was about to take place; although none of them had ever witnessed the ascent of a Matron. They formed a perimeter, as their wing tips touched. Within the circle of wings stood the young woman and her mother squaring off, for a fight to the death.

Jareth saw Devon still watching in the gallery, he could not allow interference and announced. "As it was in the dawn of time, as it will be again, without intervention or Fae meddling and intrusion. Let blood decide." He took the Goblin staff that was now part of his throne and brought it down on the tile floor.

Aello removed what was left of her ragish garment. Her ribs shown as one who was starving themselves to death, and there was little muscle tone left. Setting her jaw, she turned to her daughter and warned; "Show me no pity, for I will show you none." She stretched out one talon as far as she could. Though it was not as lethal as her daughter's, it could still do damage.

"You taught me well, old one." The younger Harpy reminded her mother as she attacked. For the sake of pride, she allowed her mother one strike before she administered the fatal blow. As her mother went down, Iris fell upon her and drank deeply of her blood. The other Harpies stood watching, blood lust in their eyes. The new Matron rose, and ordered them to drink of the fallen. They each drank and bloodied their talons in the remains of the old Matron. Iris then lifted the lifeless carcass to remove her mother's wings. Rising she moved toward the throne and lay them at the feet of the King. Her eyes flashed fire and ice, "I am Matron," she claimed. "What does the Goblin Throne want of us?"

Looking down at the bloodied wings Jareth knew there could be no going back now. "I offer you life, Matron Iris."

"Life?" She asked not sure she understood him.

"The passing of the old Matron should not also mean the passing of the _**SheelanaGigs Clan**_. Your numbers have dwindled, and your hens do not breed."

"Your…" she began then pausing changed her mind. "The Fae's who came before the Goblin who sits upon the throne, limited our access to feeding and breeding."

"That was a mistake," Jareth stated hotly. "I won't repeat it."

Iris still covered in blood smiled. "I should like to know what you intend." She pointed to her mother's wings. "The old one didn't want to hear you out…death was too close for her to hear properly. I should like to preserve what is left of my clan."

Jareth pushed his cloak back over his shoulder. "I've read the accord that was in place during the time of Zoltarie. I offer you the same as he," Jareth growled darkly; "And a chance to breed again."

Iris gave him a wicked smile, "I wonder how well you read the accord."

"My boarders are being breached," he snapped as his fist closed. "Our Kingdom is plundered and jeered at. I'll have no more of it. You and your clan are free to feed on what ever does not have rights to enter our boarders. I include the marauding nomads, and you are free to mate with whatever catches your attention."

"Are you familiar with our breeding habits?" Iris looked at him with honest eyes and a wistful smile. "They are considered by some to be… brutal."

Jareth gazed at the sinewy woman; her hips were covered in a soft downy feathery substance that dipped toward what was obviously pubic hair, although it looked more like coarse dark feathers. He let his eyes rest on her firm and well shaped breasts that she didn't hid from his view. "Hence the reason I'm not offering my own services to your clan." He leered openly at the new Matron.

Letting her head fall back she laughed as she'd not done in many years. "I like you, bold one!" She brought her head back, looking into the eyes of her King, then let them travel down to his codpiece, "I wouldn't mind letting you live."

Wickedly the King winked at the lusty female; "Let's not put that to the test." He leaned back knowing his manliness was arousing more than just the Matron.

"We get feeding and breeding rights," cooed the elder thinking with a gleam. "What do you get?"

"The strength of my Kingdom back as it should be, and your voice on issues…" He moved his leg side to side enticingly. "Also four of your best females as my honor guard."

Devon nearly dropped over the rail, "Four?" he muttered.

Not bothering to look toward his cousin, Jareth ignored the quiet outburst, knowing that the Matron would also ignore it.

Iris gave it thought, "I've four who are not ready to breed, but who could be good warriors until they are. Would they do for what you have in mind?"

"Indeed," Jareth smiled lazily. "I've sent a gift to your clan caverns… I'm sure you'll approve. Goblin Leather harnesses like the ones worn by your clan during the Great Goblin Age."

"You're deadly serious, aren't' you?" she asked coming to the realization that there was something devastating in the offing. When he nodded she extended on talon ended hand, still dripping in blood. "The accord will be held." She vowed.

Jareth looked at the bloodied arm extended to him. The former Matron had said her blood would be on his hands. He didn't flinch, nor did he cringe, but rather set his jaw firmly and took the extended arm and clasp the wrist as his was clasped. "I want your clan's allegiance Matron." He growled darkly.

"You have it, Goblin King." She assured him, giving one last look to her mother's beautiful wings. "What will you do with…"

"Philo," Jareth kept his gaze on the new Matron as he called to his steward who was standing by. "See to it that the wings are stored in my chamber… as a trophy…. The remains.."

"Will be disposed of properly," Philo finished for the king as he reached for the bloodied wings. "And the wings shall be on display in your chamber by the time you are ready to retire, Sire."

"Good," He waved the Goblin off. "Any other requests?"

Iris looked down at his codpiece once more. "Can't think of one," she murmured darkly.

"Then I'd day this meeting is at an end, you may take your squadron and depart," Jareth commanded quietly. "I would like the four sent to me come daylight."

Iris bowed respectfully; "As you wish, my King." Turning she led the others out, none looked back at the blooded remains in the center of the Goblin chamber.

Once they had left, Jareth looked down at the remains, snapped his fingers and the steward again moved forward with orderlies who cleaned up the remains. Devon was already on his way down from the gallery above.

"Have you any idea of what you've just done?"

Jareth nodded, "I've taken the first hard steps to saving my Kingdom."

"You sanctioned murder!" Devon raged. "You've breached _**The Escheat**_!"

"Calm yourself, my Lord Baron," Jareth said in a tranquil voice.

"It will not be tolerated," warned his cousin.

"Devon, the Harpy are not _**Kitain**_, Escheat is still valid." Jareth snapped his fingers and the Goblins quickly left the King to talk to his cousin in private. "Don't ever speak to me that way before my subjects again." The tone of the King's voice was dangerously low. "Or not even Escheat will keep you safe, cousin mine." The mismatched eyes glared as they spit fire.

Rebuked, and aware of his stupid misspoken words, Devon withdrew his objections. "I most humbly beg your pardon, Sire." He drew a long and stabling breath. "You allowed a Harpy not only to be killed before you; you shook your hand in its blood." He shuddered.

"Harpy tradition dictates the Matron must kill the old one." Jareth handed him a scroll.

Unrolling and reading, Devon made a face as he read what in his mind, were foul practices. "I don't remember reading this," he stated.

"You didn't read this… it was a separate issue… it was dealing with a specific ethnic group and species."

Devon read on, "Jareth, are you aware of what you're going to be allowing?"

"I'm within my rights," Jareth claimed.

"Within… but good Goddess man…"

Rising and feeling a renewed sense of purpose, Jareth flexed his muscles and smiled. "Goddess has nothing to do with this, good or bad."

Devon looked at the blood stain of the floor, "Jareth, you intend to leave that there?"

"I do," the King said quietly.

"If the High King hears of this…." Devon warned.

"When he hears of it, it will be from my own lips and no others';" Snapped the newly bloodied King. "I've let thing go because I was never really trained for this job… and I see death and destruction all about me." He waved his hands. "This is worse than anything that mortal girl did to me and the Kingdom. Perhaps I should thank her for bringing this to my attentions!" Jareth moved to the window. "Harpies are down to barely a flock! Fieries are down to a handful… and all the other races including the Fae are dwindling." He gripped the sill as Devon joined him. "I see my Kingdom deteriorating, diminishing, and declining into obliteration if I do nothing." He turned to Devon. "We were once warriors, and loved as well as feared… today few even believe in us in the world Above…. We are called myths and worse."

"Conquering the world here below…" the handsome Fae reasoned; "To re-conquer the one above?" He too looked out the window. "Dicey."

"But worth it if is saves not only this kingdom, but all the underground and the High Court cousin." Jareth mused. "I'm out to save our universe, not just my little corner of it."

"_**Jareth Tuatha Dé Danann Huukec Mec, Warrior King**_," Devon mused with a new respect and perspective. "I will be proud to serve at your side."

"It has begun…" Jareth said looking at the blood on his hand. "A new age, the age of the new Goblin nation… and a harsher world."

"You sense more than harshness for our kindred," accused his cousin. "What is it you sense?"

"Dark times ahead," he murmured as he turned away so Devon didn't see him take a taste of the blood he'd allowed to be shed in his throne room; "Dark times and war." Movement in the entry alerted him. "Yes, Philo?"

The steward bowed, "The wings now hang on the wall of your bed chamber, my King. What once was the Matron has been disposed of."

"Good," sighed the King.

"Your dinner is awaiting you, Sire." Philo bowed and departed.

"You're not going to eat after this…" complained Devon still feeling his inners recoiling.

"Go home cousin, if you have no stomach for what is about to occur." Jareth walked past him to head to the dinning hall. Devon followed him, quietly.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6. Hidden meanings**

Three more roommates followed in the days after the Chambers girl announced that one of the dorm building was rat infested. There was a Holly, a Molly and a Peg. Holly lasted all of three days, when she said she could not stand to be in a room with someone who stared as much as Sarah did. Molly lasted two days, her excuse for leaving was that Sarah was too restless a sleeper and she was getting no rest. Then there was Peg, who lasted more than two weeks.

Peg Morrissey was nearly as big as "large" Marge, and twice as unpleasantly malicious. Her situation was well known to all the girls in the school. Peg came from a violent background, and had an evil tempter. She'd announced to Sarah upon becoming her roommate that she didn't like doll princesses. She'd warned Sarah to keep to herself or else. Sarah wondered if she should be issuing the same kind of insulting warnings, but had no real desire to, nor did she care what was about to befall Peg. Peg was territorial, that was more than evident, but she was also a thief. She'd seen a locket that Sarah wore, and coveted it. When Sarah was out of the room she opened the drawer in the dresser Sarah used, and took the locket out and placed it in her pocket. When she moved to the door it would not budge, and she began to hear strange growling noises.

When the monitor called for the emergency services, he explained that he had not seen anything except the girl seemingly go into a panic attack over a stuck door. He never mentioned the pilfered locket until he spoke to the Doctor. The locket that had been taken by Peg, and pocketed turned up on the floor of the little dorm room. Sarah was questioned about the incident, however as she had not been in the room, was found blameless. Peg was taken to the hospital where she babbled on and on about shadows and sounds and odors that filled the room until she was gagging. She confessed to having stolen the locket and having tossed it at what was attacking her. When asked if she could describe this mystery assailant, she shook her head. Had it not been for the marks on her hands and arms, the staff at the hospital would have thought it was all in her head. Peg's things were removed from the room, and an exterminator was brought in. He found no signs of any kind of rodent and suggested that Peg must have scratched her own hands up. The girl however after being released from the hospital, and once settled in a new room, spread the tale of her encounter. She began to blame Sarah, and warned everyone off signing up to room with the Williams girl.

Sarah was brought into Doctor Daniels office for a discussion. He asked her if she'd any idea of what had happened. Quietly Sarah suggested that perhaps poor Peg was a bit unbalanced. Daniels found little humor in the statement and warned Sarah he was watching her closely. He was sure she was behind all the problems with the room mates. Sarah rose to her feet moved to the door and told him in a breezy tone, "This interview is over." Daniels sat with his mouth open as she exited. He picked up his phone, pressed in a number and spoke lowly. "Up the prescription on the Williams girl, I want to see what more does to her…"

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Andrew got out of his car and looked up and down the quiet street. He still felt like he was being followed, but if he had been it was through no fault of his own. He walked unhurriedly to the dinner, moving toward the back of the establishment next to the kitchen doors. He took a seat opposite the man already sitting in the booth. "Robert," he greeted the man as calmly as he could.

"Andy," the man greeted him back as he lifted a mug of steaming coffee to his lips. "Thank you for agreeing to meet me."

"I hope you know what we're doing," Andrew motioned the waitress over for a mug of coffee for himself. "Ever since I got fired from the school district things have been so weird."

Robert Williams had a worried look on his face. "It's not going to get any better either." He warned softly.

Andrew had guilt written on his handsome young features. "If I'd known for one moment that St. Ambrose had changed, I'd never have suggested it for Sarah." He groaned sipping his coffee.

Robert kept his eye on the door, looking for strangers or anyone who seemed out of place. "Our cover is you want me to take care of some legal matters for you," He passed legal forms to the other to read.

"Listen, I'm not sure how long before get disturbed. There's some scuttlebutt about this Daniels in the medical circles." Andrew said as he pretended to look over the papers. "A friend intimated that Daniels was behind my being fired."

"Why does he want Sarah?" Robert pretended to be pointing out something on the papers to the younger man, who was nodding. He kept looking to the door, "I just don't understand it."

"I hear that there's some study being conducted up at the clinic… sleep and dream depravations and how it effects the morale of a person." Andrew shuddered. "I just wanted to help, Robert… I never meant…"

Strangers walked in and Robert saw their eyes scouring the place looking for them. "I think you'll be pleased with this trust fund set up." He said aloud. "It's the safest way to protect your assets." He handed a pen to the younger man.

"I do appreciate this, Mr. Williams," Andrew signed the paper and shook hands with the lawyer. "I'd best be on my way, I've got to get back to the office."

Robert stood up and said his good byes; taking a seat again he called the waitress over and asked for more coffee. His eyes kept track of the strangers. One followed Andrew out, and two stayed keeping him under surveillance. Robert put the papers back into his briefcase, and sipped his coffee unrushed. He left a good tip for the girl who'd waited on him and exited the dinner half an hour later.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Sarah stood looking out her window as the last leaf dislodged and descended from the old gnarly oak that was within her view. No tree grew too close to the dorms; it was as if all efforts to isolate the students who lived here had been taken. If one tried to pry open one of the windows they soon discovered that the windows were stationary, and inoperable. The only think lacking was bars, but Sarah knew a prison when she saw one.

She'd been in the school for close to three months now, from the end of August to today, November the twenty forth. She knew it was a Tuesday, and that most of the students who were allowed to would be going home for the Thanksgiving Holiday. It was no surprise when she'd been called into the Head Mistresses office to find Doctor Daniels waiting for her. His face had looked on the verge of a smile as he delivered the 'bad' news that she was not going home. He had expected her to pitch a fit by the look of expectation on his face. Just one more thing he could use against her. She'd been prepared for this, and disappointed him bitterly.

"I understand," she said and exited without waiting to be dismissed.

"Young lady, I was not finished." Daniels called after her as she moved down the hall.

Looking over her shoulder Sarah glared at the man, "I was." She walked unhurriedly down the hall to the stairs wondering where is new brazen bravado had sprouted from.

Now she stood in her room, watching family cars drive up, and other students escaping from this reform school from hell. She leaned on the glass no longer concerned if she was being watched by a hidden camera she wasn't supposed to know was there. Part of her was glad she wasn't going home. Not that she didn't miss her family, or hunger for the familiar surroundings. Not that she didn't miss her own space and freedom, no she missed that; nevertheless she was glad she didn't have to worry about Toby being safe around her. She had awakened one morning this past week to find she'd flung out her arm in her dreamless sleep and smashed the table lamp. Her deepest concerns were now the safety of her family. Every chance she had was spent in the library doing research on this aliment, now she'd started keeping a private log.

When the last car had pulled away from the circular drive, taking the lucky ones away, Sarah took her sweater from the hook in the closet and headed toward the dinning hall. There were fewer than twenty students in the great hall this evening. Just the hard cases, cases like Sarah, Lilith and Bryn. They met her at the door and moved as one solid unit toward the line for what was being served up as dinner. Tonight it felt as if there were more monitors than students in the hall.

Lilith chose the table, one in a corner that was only big enough for four to eat at. No one dared join them, and they had the table to themselves. Bryn picked at her food, detesting the goo that was supposed to be mashed potatoes, the vegetables were not much better and the meat was indigestible by her standard. Lilith also picked at her food.

"Sarah, eat," Lilith coaxed lightly, not wishing to be overheard by the monitors.

Forcing herself to lift the fork to her lips she closed her eyes and shoved the tasteless substance in her open mouth. Fighting the urge to gag, she chewed slowly and forced herself to swallow. Her stomach revolted and threatened to regurgitate the vile mouthful of what ever it was she'd shoved in. Sarah used every bit of control she had to keep her diner down.

Lilith began a light conversation. "I hear they are planning an outing for the junior class," she said pretending to enjoy her meal.

"Really," Bryn looked at her with mild interest not wishing to appear too happy at the prospect of escaping for a few hours.

Lilith nodded, "I hear we're being bussed over to the University for a Lecture."

Sarah went over in her mind how many students were actually in the junior class here. She knew most of the girls who were, and looked at Lilith. "They are going to bus all sixty of us?"

Lilith nodded, "I hear they are trying to get some of us interested in applying to the college for credit classes when we become seniors." She smiled, and said in a quiet under breath so hushed that it was barely audible; "Ours is not the only school going either, it will be easy to get lost in the crowds for a short time."

Sarah felt her heart race; could she really have a short respite of freedom?

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Robert looked at the dinning table, and frowned at the missing place setting. He looked at Karen whose own face was showing worry and distress. "The table looks nice, honey." He said softly trying to be encouraging and supportive. Karen nodded, but didn't speak. They had planned on a quiet family celebration this year. No extended family, just the nucleus, just the four of them. The call from Doctor Daniels had put that plan to rest. Sarah was not going to be allowed to leave as she was according to Daniels involved in an incident under investigation.

Toby sat in the dark room that had been his sister's. He was too quiet for a normal three year old. Karen often found him in the girl's room, sitting in the center of the floor staring at the window with Sarah's old bear tucked up under his arm. She found him there just before dinner on Thanksgiving. He sat with his eyes hunting for something out the window, something he could not voice. Closer and closer he clutched the bear, as his little face became more and more serious.

"Toby," Karen called his name softly, almost as if she were fearful of disturbing the little waif. He looked at his mother for a moment then turned back to the window. Karen moved into the room feeling like an interloper. "What are you looking for, baby?" She asked in a whisper more to herself as she'd not expected the child to answer.

"Birdie…" the boy pointed to the tall French styled windows.

Karen moved toward the window to look for the elusive bird her son was looking for when she noticed the car on the street and the man sitting in the driver's seat with binoculars watching their house. "Dear God," she groaned. "Toby, stay away from the windows." She warned as she went to the hall and called out. "Robert, honey could you come here?" The quiet tone of urgency in her voice alerted the lawyer that something was amiss. Entering the room he looked at her, at the boy of the floor and the window she was pointing to. "Toby is looking for a birdie," she said and pointed to the ground rather than the sky.

Looking out the widow, and pointing up he asked. "Here?" While his eyes moved down to the car keeping surveillance. Moving back from the window he frowned and motioned his wife to pick up the boy and leave the room. "I'm hungry, let's have that dinner." He said quietly. In the hall Karen gave him a quizzical look, begging for answers of which he had none. He motioned her to the dinning room, where he put the music on and then spoke to her in a quiet undertone. "Karen, I'll get to the bottom of this, I promise."

"Bring Sarah home, Robert." She begged. "This is wrong, and you know it."

"I know," he agreed as she began to carve the bird on the table.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

The Girls at St. Ambrose had not roasted turkey. They did not have cranberry sauce, no sweet potatoes casserole, nor did they have much hope. All twenty girls were gathered in the dinning hall of the school with the Head Mistress. Most of the staff was home with their own families. Only the monitors were in the dinning hall, even the kitchen staff was bare bones. Mrs. Browning looked down her nose at the girls left at the school. She didn't speak to them or give any indication she felt anything for them, save for contempt. The Head Mistress ate at a table by herself, glaring at the unfortunate students who had to remain at the school. Her most heated looks were directed toward Sarah and Lilith, with Bryn catching to fallout of her anger.

Bryn muttered softly under her breath. "I don't know what's got her knickers in a knot." Her statement came out of the blue. "It's not like we had a choice…"

Lilith hushed the girl with long red locks, "I'm sure she feels she's got plenty of reasons."

Sarah looked around the room; 'Large' Marge was one of the girls left behind, as was Peg and a few of the other roommates that had been foisted upon Sarah. Having always been one to love puzzles, Sarah was noticing some interesting patterns. "Everyone here is some kind of hard case…" she whispered under her breath.

Lilith didn't look about, "I'm sure."

"They want something more than sleep disorders." Sarah mused. "But they have bit off more than they can chew." She looked at the Head Mistress who was staring daggers her direction. She smiled over at the woman who seemed startled and looked away quickly.

Bryn whispered softly. "What excuse did they give you for your being kept here this holiday? The excuse they gave me and the one they gave my folks was lame."

"They didn't give me a reason," Sarah said looking back at the dissatisfying dinner. "And they seemed a bit taken aback that I accepted without protestations."

"That Daniels is up to something," agreed Lilith letting her eyes wander the room. "There are no classes tomorrow… meet me in the library after breakfast." She said finishing what she could of the dinner.

Sarah pushed her tray away, and found a heavy hand clamp down on her arm. One of the monitors was glaring down at the girl. Sarah, unable to tolerate the touch recoiled. Quickly she stood up and in a dark and dangerous tone told the monitor to never touch her again. She was surprised when instead of continuing the forward attack her would be assailant recoiled in fear and backed off quite quickly.

Mrs. Browning had expected trouble, stood up with a look of triumphant victory, only to lose the look as the room didn't break into pandemonium. She glared once more at the three girls glaring back.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Sarah was escorted back to her room by a monitor, once in the room she began to pace like a caged animal. She knew she was being watched but didn't care any more. Something kept plaguing her. Why was it, she and the others were being pushed to have outbursts, she wondered. What was it Daniels thought he was going to gain? Over and over she mulled it though her mind. Stopping she looked over her shoulder and looked at the painting of Po Li. While it was still only a dragon chasing a bird, she was beginning to wonder about the reasons the dragon was in pursuit of the bird. She looked at the bottle on her night stand, the tablets prescribed for her by Daniels. Picking up the bottle and aware she was watched, she prepared to take the medication and become ill.

Sarah entered the little bathroom, poured herself a glass of water, pretended to take the tablet and as she drank the water moved her fingers so she could stick one down her throat to stimulate the gag reflex. Up came the water, and part of her dinner. As she emptied the contents of her stomach she dropped the tablet she'd palmed into the commode as well. She washed out her mouth and changed for bed. Once she'd gotten comfortable under her blankets she laid on the bed feeling as if she'd had a little victory of her own.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Lilith was sitting with Bryn when Sarah entered the library. Taking her seat she whispered to the girls as she slipped out of her coat, "I'm going to get to the bottom of this." She placed her books on the table and picked up a note book. Standing up she said in a voice that would carry. "I'm going to look up that reference material I need for my report."

Bryn whispered to Lilith, "I hope she knows what she's doing."

"I think she knows more than they want us to know already." Lilith murmured keeping busy. "Keep your eye on her, if she needs cover I'll do something to distract the Librarian."

Sarah moved past the usual reference sections and as she was passing the medical section something caught her eye. Something that should not have been there at all a misshapen little creature was smiling at her from the shadows and shoving a magazine her way. Sarah looked about; no one else of the few people in the library seemed to take any notice of the creature. Moving closer she knelt to pick up the medical journal from the magazine rack. The issue was a few years old, in fact it was ten years old, and the pages were worn. It was the picture on the front that now had her attention. Doctor Daniels, a much younger version, but Doctor Daniels none the less, the caption next to him spoke of his study on sleep disorders and how they could be used to control subjects. Sarah looked at the creature receding into the darkness, and as it did it seemed to have receded in her mind as well. After all she could not have just seen a Goblin, could she? She slipped the magazine into the folder she carried under her note book. Sarah looked at the rest of the rack, although the copies were all old, they all seemed to deal with Doctor Daniels.

It was a much quieter Sarah who returned to the table, and Lilith whispered to her. "What's wrong?"

"We're being used as Lab rats," Sarah replied.

Bryn looked up, and quickly alerted the girls that someone was coming toward them. "I need the map for the history assignment." All three had completed the assignment already, and Bryn knew the other two would pick up on that discrepancy.

Sarah shuffled her things under the other items on the table and handed the map book to Bryn. "You need the one on page seventy eight." She said knowing they were now developing a code all their own.

Mrs. Browning was now standing at the table, looking at them as if she were ready to accuse them of some infraction. "What are you three doing?" she demanded.

"Homework," Lilith said as if asking a question rather than answering one.

The woman pulled the map book out of Bryn's hands and looked it over, certain she was going to find something else. But as it was only a map book she found nothing. She slammed the book down on the table making a loud noise that registered and resounded throughout the room. Grumbling she stalked off.

Lilith let out a long sigh of relief, and turning to Bryn gave the red haired girl a wink. Bryn passed the wink on to Sarah who was watching the Head Mistress exit the building. "She's wound too tight." Sarah muttered.

"Talbot was much more pleasant," agreed Lilith as she began to write on a sheet of note paper. "What did you find Sarah?"

"An old medical journal with a picture of Daniels and an article on his experiments;" She looked about, "I'll show you both later."

It was past noon when the three girls packed up their books and headed out of the building. Once more they moved toward the fountain, but finding it turned off for the season they walked on. Needing to speak and unable to. Bryn took the lead and moved toward the complexes generator building. There was a constant hum coming from the building and it was hard enough to hear someone next to you. She leaned toward Sarah. "Get up close to the building."

There seemed to be one spot that was shielded from the on going din. Sarah found it and spoke quickly. "Daniels was all but drummed out of the research community. He's got this idea of using sleep deprivation as some kind of… control technique. And the meds he's been prescribing are not on the recommended list of meds for my disorder….What's he prescribing for you?"

Lilith frowned, "I think he's got me on some kind of mood altering drug… right after I take it I become restless and have trouble sleeping… not that I didn't have problems before…. But when I take it I don't feel rested…I usually don't take it…"

Bryn nodded, "I'm on stuff like that… and I noticed they are looking for me to… pick a fight…I've been watching them watch me."

"They want us to pick a fight…." Sarah agreed. "I read that Daniels first position was with the penal system… and I'll bet he wants to go back there… that's why he's turned this school into a prison. He's using us to experiment on…and I'll bet none of our folks know. Because no matter what, my father would never agree to something like this…"

Lilith nodded, "Makes sense…" She looked up the path to be sure they were still alone. "Look, if we can get through this year without him cracking us it'll take a miracle. He's got the monitors and Browning on his side. What can we do?"

"I'm not taking the meds," Sarah said darkly. "I'll learn to control my anger on my own… and as for the sleep disorder; well I'll learn to live with that as well. My anger belongs to me not some frickin' mad scientist, I'll be damned if I let him control me. "

"We need a code," Bryn said decisively; "Some word known to the three of us."

Lilith looked at Sarah and asked. "Is there anything you can think of that would be out of the ordinary?"

"No," Sarah shook her head. "You want something mundane! Something that would mean nothing to anyone," she looked at the trees on the path. "Willow!"

Lilith giggled. "Willow?"

Bryn leaned on the wall, "I think that's perfect, it's mundane and it's unique at the same time."

Lilith held her hand out and Bryn put her hand on top, Sarah let her hand hover over theirs and they seemed to understand. "Pact," Lilith said and the word was repeated by the other two girls. Lowering her hand, Lilith warned. "I think we'd better move on."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Andrew moved quietly, not wishing to attract notice. He had gotten on one train, only to jump off at the last moment and get on another going the opposite direction. Once he was sure he's lost the man who'd been trailing him for days, he relaxed enough to take a breath. He leaned on the wall of the train watching the station diminish as he was carried away. He had made a mental promise to himself to get to the bottom of this and now he was going to. He had made phone calls from other people's phones, fearing his own lines were being tapped.

Robert was waiting for Andrew when he arrived at the station. He was driving the car of one of the other partners of his firm and looked as if he'd eaten a canary as the younger man entered the vehicle. "Andy, I've found someone who can answer our questions." He announced.

"Robert, I feel like I went to sleep and woke up in a James Bond movie… and I have to tell you," the younger man groused. "I don't like it."

Robert pulled his car out of the station lot and into the light traffic outside the little town that they had used as a meeting location. "I'm not sure you're going to like any of this." His own voice was amused and Robert wondered why. They pulled into to a parking garage in the heart of town, and drove to the top floor where they were greeted by six men standing beside a dark sedan. Parking his car along side, Robert stepped out. Andrew did the same. They approached the vehicle, and were given entry to the back seat once they had cleared the security men.

Robert looked at the elderly man seated on one side of the sedan, as he took his seat. "Doctor Danvers?" he asked as Andrew took a seat beside him.

The man nodded, "Williams?" he looked the younger man and asked; "Who is this?"

"This is Andrew Crowley, he's…concerned about my daughter as well, he is the one who suggested St. Ambrose." Robert explained quietly. "Can you help us?"

"I'm not sure." The elderly man said leaning on a silver topped waling stick. "It depends on what you want." He looked at Andrew, "I'd like to know why you suggested St. Ambrose."

Andrew nodded, willing to give what information he had if it would help the Williams' and Sarah. "I was familiar with Doctor Talbot's methods for dealing with teen anger. Sarah's condition causes some uncontrollable issues. Can you help us?"

Danvers frowned, lifting a medical file in an envelope. "Yes, I've read the reports." He turned to the father. "You understand that everything said here is off the record?" he dropped the envelope back to the seat beside him. "I have no formal authority in this case."

"Anything you can give us will help," Robert stated softly. "This is my daughter, and I can't stand back and watch her become …."

"A prisoner," the elderly man suggested softly nodding as if he already knew the man's worst fears. "I'm afraid that is exactly what she is and what you've done to her, both of you, unwittingly; but both of you have played a part in this little pantomime of terror."

Leaning on his knees Andrew asked again. "What can you tell us?"

Danvers leaned back and apprised the pair of men before him. "Daniels is not respected in most medical circles… however he has done some work that has caused a stir. He's trying to tap into the primal energies stored in the brain and regulated by sleep… that's why he got himself appointed to the head of St. Ambrose hospital." His face showed disdain and anger. "They gave him a blank check as it were, and all those poor girls to experiment on."

"I never signed anything allowing such a thing," Robert protested. "I'm a lawyer… and I read everything before I sign anything."

The elderly man looked at him unimpressed. "You think everything is in ink?"

"Fuck!" cursed Andrew loudly. "This is my fault, they can do what they want and said it's part of the course of action to help her deal with the anger issues… they can drug her and you don't have to sign a thing."

"I've looked at the medications list you sent me," Danvers stated. "I'm amazed you were able to get it."

"I had my secretary request a medications form for insurance allocations." Robert said. "Sneaky I know, but it worked."

Danvers smiled at the man, amused. "We could have used a man like you during the war." He mused as he pulled the medications list from the envelope. "Each of these drugs by them selves is fine… beneficial to some degree depending on the aliment. But in these combinations… they could be,"

"Deadly?" Robert asked thinking the worst.

"No," Danvers said sadly. "But you'd almost wish they were…. Look, the aliment your daughter is suffering from… there is no cure, and most of the poor bastards go mad…" He pointed to one of the medications. "This is for convulsion; it's one of the later stages of the disorder. Do you know if your daughter has begun convulsing?" Robert said not that he was aware of. "I didn't think so… in this dosage, it can actually cause that symptom to occur."

"Why would they want her to…" Robert shook his head, unable to get him mind around it.

"Daniels was rumored to be working on a mind control system." Danvers stated coldly. "He was said to have connections to some secret government agency… I'd hate to think that was true… He was despicable and hardly trustworthy…." The older man went on. "He was originally working on a way to help prisoners who had developed a sleeping disorder… some of his patients went mad…but before they did, they developed some frighteningly powerful senses. He said he was going to harness those senses, and that power… You see, Mr. Williams, for Daniels it is all about the power."

"He wants to turn those girls into some kind of monsters?" Andrew asked aghast.

"No, something else has already done that…. He wants to harness their raw energy and power." Danvers looked concerned. "I still have friends, some of whom have contacts… I asked about your daughter…and learned that Daniels took her off the only thing that was remotely helping, these Chinese herbs. He won't allow you or anyone else to interfere… and you enrolled her in that school…" The old man warned again. "He'll find excuses to hold her there like the prisoner she is."

Robert set his jaw, "Daniels is not the only one with government connections."

A hand moved toward the upset father. "If what I read in this report is true, it is too late to save your little girl. She'll start exhibiting violent ways, and be a danger to herself or worse, you and your family."

"I can't leave her there…" Robert complained.

"I'm afraid you must." Danvers said sounding less than compassionate. "Daniels already has her…"

Robert got the strangest glint in his eyes. "Not Sarah, she's no ordinary girl…." He smiled as if he knew a secret that even he was not aware of.

Catching some of the father's optimism, Danvers smiled as well. "I pray you're right… but just in case… limit your family's exposure to her."

"Sarah already requested that," Robert confirmed.

Surprise registered and the elderly doctor became more interested. "If this is true, then you're daughter may have a fighting chance."

"Oh she'll be fighting alright." Both of the other men said in unison.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Sarah read the information once more, not certain her eyes had read it right the first time. "That dirty son of a bitch," she murmured to herself in the closet with the flashlight on the page. She had crawled out from her bed, slithered on the floor like a snake and pulled the closet door closed behind her to ensure her privacy. She'd made sure she'd locked her door before she went to bed, and was sure no monitor was going to enter with out authorization.

Something moved in the closet with her, something dark and small and quick. It gave off a noise that sounded exactly like a hissing snicker. Sarah turned the beam of light toward the spot but what ever it was had been faster than she, and it was gone. Sarah looked at the closet and wondered why it was it had a lived in look. Even the crakes on the wall looked more like etchings. She trained the flashlight beam on the wall, and would have sworn that the cracks made an intricate and elaborate pattern like a maze. It made her head hurt to look at it, so she lowered the beam back to the magazine in her hands. She was glad that the next day was Saturday and she could sleep in if she liked. Not that she'd get all that much rest, but she would not have to rush to get up for classes. She was aware that most of the students who'd gone home would not be back until Sunday. Finishing reading she hid the magazine and turned off the light to crawl back in the darkness to her bed.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Lilith and Bryn were waiting for her outside her building the next morning. The three walked as one unit to the building where the students received what the school called nourishing meals. Again they sat at the little corner table, and again they were given a wide berth by the others. Sarah looked over at the monitors and began to feel pity toward them.

Lilith smiled as if all were well. "The trip to the university has been confirmed."

Sarah looked up at her, "I'm not sure how I feel about that."

"Be glad," Bryn suggested. "I hear they have a whole grove of willows."

Both Lilith and Sarah turned to look at the red haired girl who was pleased with herself. Sarah looked over at Lilith. "I'd like to see that."

"Me too…."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Daniels went over the tapes again and again, looking for something, and seeing nothing new. "There has to be a reason," he snapped at his assistant. "That Williams girl should be climbing the walls, and clawing at everything that moves! Why is she not?"

The assistant shrugged, "I don't know… She's taking the meds, and responding to all the stimuli, but I can't explain why her responses are not more pronounced, sir."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

The weekend passed, and the lucky returned to St. Ambrose. The ones who were there already felt a bit of envy for them, but only a bit. The first week passed as did the second. Sarah feigned taking the drugs as prescribed by Daniels. Most went into the commode with Sarah tossing her cookies. However she'd begun to read up on eating disorders in young women her age and decided she'd have to find another way to get rid of the unwanted pills.

Sarah began making daily trips though the medical section of the library, with Lilith and Bryn watching her back. She'd returned the first journal and took out another and another after that. On the morning of the planned trip she knew that she was already on a short leash with her emotions. The nights seemed to be dragging on, and her mind never seemed to be getting much rest. Already sensitive to touch it was becoming a real problem now. If someone bumped her by accident she had to bite down hard on her lower lip to prevent herself from doing bodily harm to that person. She wondered if she should just refuse to go on this outing. Lilith seemed to sense her turmoil and whispered; "Willow grove." Sarah's response was to calm herself and think tranquil thoughts.

Mrs. Browning was going over to the University with the girls of the junior class. She sat in her seat in the front of the bus looking prim and proper. The girls, in their uniforms sat with quiet excitement building. Lilith led Sarah and Bryn to the back of the bus where 'Large' Marge was seated. Upon seeing Sarah, Marge got up and moved to another seat. The back bench was wide enough for four if they were tightly packed, but no one else wanted to sit with the trio. None of the other girls even talked to them, which suited them just fine. Some inner sense seemed to tell the trio not to speak of anything out of the ordinary on this journey over to the university. The girls exited the bus and lined up behind the Head Mistress who ushered them into the auditorium building where they were directed to the seats set aside for their school.

After a lecture that took half an hour longer than it should have, they were divided up in groups to see the campus. Bryn pulled both Sarah and Lilith into a group that was mostly filled with girls from another school whose uniforms were very like the ones they wore. They followed the guide out of the auditorium, and down the quad. Half way across the quad, Lilith broke away and pulled the other two with her. She pointed down a path that was clear and said; "Student Union."

Once walking quickly toward the building young men and women were entering and exiting from, Sarah asked; "How did you know that?"

"Map," Lilith said brightly. "I looked it up a week ago at the library while you were doing more medical research." She motioned the girls to sit and she moved to where a group of young people were standing about. She came back happily a few moments later. "Come on, let's go outside." She had something in her hands as they moved quickly out the door again into the brisk air. "The guy in there said that there's a place up ahead that's great for having a smoke without being bothered. There it is," she pointed to a depression in the buildings. "Come on."

It was actually a place where three buildings came together and it was out of the wind. It was also deserted, and Lilith handed her treasure to the other two; three cigarettes. While Bryn praised her up and down, Sarah stood holding the tobacco product in uncertain hands. The group Lilith had spoken to had not only supplied cigarettes but also a pack of matches. Lilith lit up quickly and passed the book of matches to Bryn, she then leaned on the building drawing the hot smoke deep into her lungs. Bryn did like wise and passed the pack of matches to Sarah who stood looking at them as if she were from another planet.

Lilith blew out the smoke and looked at her with a smile. "What are you waiting for, light up." She commanded softly.

"I don't smoke," Sarah said feeling a bit out of touch.

"Don't or never have?" Lilith asked cheerily.

"Is there a difference?" Sarah asked.

Bryn nodded, "If you've tried it and didn't like it, that's one thing…."

"I've never tired." Sarah admitted. "I've no idea of what to do… my parents don't smoke…"

"It's easy," Lilith said feeling calmer now that she had nicotine back in her system. "That end is the filter; it goes in your mouth. You light the other and draw slowly, not too fast or deep for the first time… or you'll feel like coughing up a lung." She teased lightly.

"Give it a try," Bryn said drawing slowly on the burning embers in her hand. "You'll never know if you like it if you don't."

Sarah placed the tip of the cigarette in her lips, Lilith took the book of matches and lit one and held it to the end of Sarah's cigarette. "Slow and easy," warned the girl with black hair and excited eyes.

The first drag was rough, and caused a coughing spasm, and Sarah's eyes to tear. But with the encouragement of the two other girls she tried again. The second drag was more successful, a few moments later Sarah looked at the two and whispered. "Ok, that's weird. I feel more relaxed than I have for months."

"Nicotine," Lilith shrugged. "I'll bet it counteracts the drugs they've been pumping in us." She looked at the cigarette in her hands as if it were a savior. "I miss these little buggers… I use to have a stash… but the new janitors found it and I was shit out of luck."

Sarah leaned on wall behind her. "Oh this is amazing," Both Bryn and Lilith watched silently as Sarah visibly lost some of her edge. "Where has this been all my life?" she joked lightly.

Lilith winked, "I'm sure there are many other wonderful experiences awaiting you." Her face turned serious. "We don't have a lot of time; they'll be looking for us in half an hour. What did you find out?"

"Daniels is using the Hospitals connection with the School to get his hands on cases that match his needs. Sleep disorders mostly, but a few anger management issues cases as well." Sarah said coldly. "He's using the information to give rise to a new mind controlling technique. One that will not have to depend on drugs once it's in place."

"And that bastard is using us?" Bryn frowned. "I wish I could show him what it feels like to be a lab rat…"

"Be careful what you wish for," murmured Sarah. "You never know whose listening."

Lilith paced, "We've been able to hold them off so far… but we're going to have to be careful…"

"More than careful," Sarah argued. "We are going to have to be incredibly brilliant about this. We need to make sure we don't fall prey to this horrid plan."

"Any suggestions?" Bryn asked the girl enjoying her first smoke.

"A few," Sarah smiled cryptically. Holding up the cigarette she looked at Lilith. "We need to put a stash of these in somewhere… maybe… we can get one of the smoking staff to accidently drop a few now and then…. I feel so much calmer…."

"The plan," urged Lilith.

"Oh yeah, we need to stop allowing them to control us. We need to be in charge, and that will give us the power. Do you guys meditate?" the other two shook their heads, "Well start, I read in one of the journals that when a subject meditates even the ones with disorders like mine, their anger levels go way down. From this moment on, we three are going to become model students."

"Model students," Lilith made a face and her voice dripped sarcasm. "I hate school…."

"Learning is power," Sarah countered quickly. "It's all about power Lilith… we have it, they want it…"

Bryn, seeing something more in the comment nodded her head. "She's right Lilith, if we are to take control of our power before it falls into their hands…. We need to be smarter about it… and going into the system instead of bucking it is a great cover."

Lilith snorted, laughed and placed her hand with a balled fist outright. "To the Willows,"

"To the Willows," Bryn placed her fist on the one there.

Sarah held her hand just a fraction above, as close as she dared come without actually touching; "To the Willows." She took her last drag on the cigarette, "Ok, girls let's haul buns and get back before that harridan Browning misses us."

Lilith suddenly laughed collapsing against the building. "They'll have to let us go home for Winter break!"

"Damn right," Bryn said with a wicked smile turning to Sarah. "And we'll be in control from here on out…"

Sarah looked around at the buildings as they moved back toward the auditorium. "You know, it's really not a bad place… better than Ambrose hell…"

Lilith stopped, "I get the feeling you are saying more here."

"I think I want to go here after we get released from hell," Sarah said nodding. "I'm going to have dad look into it for me…. Getting information is the first line of defense."

Bryn turned to Lilith. "We've been so busy bucking we've overlooked our own futures. Sarah's right," she looked about the quad, "I could see us going here."

Lilith's face changed as she saw something in a design over one arched door. "Perhaps," she murmured. She kept the secret of what she'd seen to herself, knowing they were now too close to the area where Browning was. She brightened up with a cheery tone. "I think going to school here would be cool." Browning came out of the auditorium and looked like she was about to screech, Lilith moved toward her quickly. "Oh Mrs. Browning, we got lost… we stopped in the little girls room and when we got out our group had moved on… do you know how big this campus is?"

Sarah had to look away, unable to keep from giggling at the precious little thing act Lilith was performing. Bryn snickered and pretended she was sneezing. The Head Mistress looked at the three and taking control of her emotions sighed. "It's time to get back on the bus, young ladies." She pointed to the bus of students already seated.

"Yes, ma'am;" They answered in unison as they marched toward the bus.

Browning looked around the campus, it was large, and her girls were new to it. They could have gotten separated from the group. She made a decision not to mention this incident to the Doctor as she took her seat. "Ladies," she said as the bus pulled away. "I do hope you all enjoyed your visit to the University, and are seriously thinking of taking the classes that will be offered to you in the coming year…"


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7. Declarations of independence in the Winter Sun.**

They had been on their best behavior after the visit to the University, and Daniels was stumped. There was only two weeks before the winter break and he found he had no reason to hold any of the subjects of his study back from going home. He shoved his complied charts and findings to the floor off the credenza they'd been set on. He turned to his assistant with an angry pout, "I want them back on the meds as soon as they return. And up the dosage another notch, I want more results." He walked past the mess of papers snarling, "I want this mess cleared up before I return."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

On the morning of Saturday December Nineteenth, Sarah packed only her painting and her clothes, and was waiting for her Father when he appeared. She handed him the painting and waved to both Bryn and Lilith who were also being picked up by family members. "I'll see you when I get back after break!" she promised loudly, almost pleasantly.

Robert turned on a little device he'd placed on the dash as soon as they were on the road. "Sarah we have to talk," he said urgently. "There are some things I've learned about the school, and you need to know them as well."

The girl leaned back in the seat, glad she didn't have to keep up the happy face she'd painted on. "I've uncovered some information as well. Doctor Daniels is using the school and students as lab rats."

Robert shot a look at her before turning his attentions back to the road. "Sarah, he's dangerous… I want to pull you out of there."

"No," she said firmly. "I've got a good line on what's really happening…Daddy and I think he'd fight you if you pulled me out."

"But the drugs he uses… I've talked to an expert…" Robert could not keep the urgency from his tone, but he didn't want to frighten the girl."

Sarah pulled out the note book from her back pack and opened it to a page on the drugs and their effects. "I know all about it…. See they have a really good medical section in our library." She tossed the book into the back seat. "I'm more worried about him pulling something to hurt you, or Karen or even Toby if you pull me out of his little study… believe me, he's not getting the results he thought he would."

"My expert said the Chinese herbs were the only thing helping you," he looked at her in a bit of awed wonder. "Yet here you sit calm as a clam."

"It's a façade." She sighed darkly. "God, right now I'd kill for a cigarette."

Robert pulled off the road, turned to the girl and frowned. "When did you take up smoking?"

With honest eyes the girl confronted her father. "Two weeks ago… the nicotine counters the meds that fiend has been pumping into us girls." She looked at her father as if they were discussing the weather. "I don't have many… one or two every couple of days…"

"Sarah I don't like this…" Robert shook his head.

"Like it or not, it's done." She announced blithely. "So be a dear and stop on the way home and buy me a pack, would you… I promise not to smoke in my room or around Karen and Toby."

In spite of the seriousness of the nature of the discussion, Robert could not help but start to snicker at her. "Fine," he said pulling back on the road; "Any particular brand?"

Sarah nodded, "I been using Tareyton's, and I'd like to stick to that for now."

"Tareyton it is." He sighed, "however if you tell your mother I bought you cigarettes for Christmas, I'll deny it."

Looking out the window Sarah began to giggle, and then laugh out loud.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Karen was waiting in the door when the car pulled up. She had a firm hand on Toby but even her firm hand was not enough to hold back the tyke when his sister was on the path way up to the house though the new fallen snow. He squirmed out of her grip and made a mad dash down throwing himself like a missile at his sister.

"Sahwwah," he squealed like a little piggy in delight.

Sarah braced expect the panic and terror anyone's touch held, when it didn't happen she collapsed in a clump of arms, legs and tears. She began gasping as she sobbed holding the little boy to her and taking comfort from his baby kisses.

Karen stood on the porch, tears staining her cheeks as she watched the children's reunion. As Robert joined her on the steps she whispered to him, "I don't care what anyone says, that girl would never harm Toby!"

Robert had to agree, "I think you're right." He patted her shoulder as he carried Sarah's one bag and her painting into the house and up to her room.

Once she'd composed herself, Sarah rose to her feet and moved up to where her step mother stood. Karen's face twisted in a mixture of joy and apprehension. "Well," she sounded slightly impatient. "Come on, get in here." She opened her arms tentatively.

Sarah moved closer, fearful of the touch and of disappointing Karen. When she didn't experience the usual pain and distress human touch usual brought, she warped her arms about Karen. "Oh God, Karen…."

Tears coming fast now, Karen warped her arms about the girl in return. "It's alright kiddo…it's alright…" She whispered in the girl's ear. "We can face anything…together…" She released the girl and said, "You look too thin."

"I've had some bad reactions to some of the meds," she said honestly.

Karen placed an arm around the girl's shoulder and led her into the house, with Toby holding tight to her free hand. "You're home now, honey…"

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

In a castle, beyond the Goblin city, in the heart of a magical Labyrinth stood a dark figure staring at the stars. Jareth was more and more becoming accustomed to the Goblin leather he now wore. The changes that he'd made were now almost like a second nature to him. He watched the night sky as the Harpies went off in search of food. He pitied any pour creature that was found of interest to the four females hovering in the skies. He knew they would obey his order to leave good citizens alone. They would not hunt in the city district, nor would they hunt anyone under the King's protection.

"I still don't trust them," Devon said pouring himself a goblet of wine from Jareth's private stash in his private study. He poured one for the King as well and carried the goblet to him. "I will admit I'm amazed at how they seem to respond to you."

"They want to live, cousin." Jareth said before sipping the wine. "They know that I've a plan."

Devon took a seat in one of the arm chairs, as was his habit, not even waiting for the king to bid him be seated. "I'm amazed at how far they've come in so short a time. You've got them to wear those guard's harnesses, and cover their nakedness…. You've also got them to restrain from eating everything in sight."

"Harpies need to hunt," Jareth looked out the window. "Their skills have become very lax due to the stupid rules that the Lords of Avalon have placed on generations of my subjects." His four Harpy guards were now tiny dots in the distance. "Devon, have you ever watched one fly?"

Devon made a face, "I have not."

"They are poetry in the night sky," Jareth mused as he sipped his wine thoughtfully. "Is all in readiness?"

The Lord Baron nodded, "I've seen to the most important details myself as you suggested." He cocked on brow up toward his golden fringe of hair falling carelessly over his brow. "That is with the exception of your garments… I hear that the court Taylor and the court Leather Master have joined forces for that little gambit."

"Indeed," the King mused still looking at the specks in the sky. "I'm sure that we will cut quite a figure upon arrival.

"On dragon's back no less," Devon turned to look at the man in the window frame. "It's dramatic if nothing else."

"Oh I could wave my hand and have the whole damn entourage appear in the center of the court," Jareth admitted taking a seat in the window frame, resting his goblet on upraised knee. "But it would not have the same effect. This has to be hard hitting and dramatic to work. The Fae of the Seelie Court must see us as an organized and structured court in our own right. It's time they stopped jeering at and ignoring us."

"Be careful what you wish for cousin," tempered the Baron. "You've already won enemies in that court, remember?"

Jareth leaned his head out the window, "I know."

"This new… conduct of yours may work against you." Devon rose to pour himself another goblet of the vintage. "As of now, few if any have shown interest in having their houses join with you…. With you taking a stand and making a display of power…"

"I've no interest in taking a mate, now or ever," he interjected.

"What you have interest in will be of little consequence if the High King or worse his wife decide you should take a bride." Devon carried the carafe of wine to Jareth and poured into his goblet once it was extended to him. "Do something despicable as soon as you can," advised the weary Baron. "Unless you wish to be saddled with a all too precious little pampered brat for a wife."

Sipping Jareth asked, "I wonder how you've managed to escape the noose so long."

"I am not high enough in any status to be of consequence, cousin." Devon winked.

The King chuckled softly, turned and looked out the window. "I'm married to the Kingdom, and that will have to be enough for now… someday I may take a mate, but not now… there's too much at stake and I don't want to be distracted. It's enough to take care of my Goblins and the wished away…"

"To the Kingdom," Devon raised his goblet knowing his cousin would not refuse such a toast.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Sunday morning Sarah awoke in her own bed, surrounded by her belongings. She sat up feeling less groggy but still not quiet rested. Her mind was racing with thousands of thoughts. Looking at the clock confirmed her worst fear; Karen had let her sleep in. She could not in truth fault her step mother; after all, the woman didn't know that letting her sleep was just as bad as getting her up without sleep. She stretched in the bed and looked at the morning sunlight dancing on her floor from the windows. A tapping sounded gently on her door and she bid the tapper to enter.

Karen peeped in and smiled, "Moring, I heard you moving and thought it was safe to come up." She handed Sarah a note, pointed to the window and then the note with a finger then raised to her lips.

'Karen, you could have made a great spy,' Sarah thought to herself as she read the note and nodded. "Yep, I'm awake." She said smiling at her step mother. "Did I miss breakfast?"

"No," Karen said taking a seat on the bed. "But I think you might want to shower first," she teased.

"What I want is a cup of coffee," grumbled the girl teasing back.

Karen laughed and said, "Shower, I'll have breakfast ready in less than half an hour." The woman exited leaving the girl to her own devices.

Sarah rose, went to her bath and stood in the warm wonderful shower for fifteen minutes before she remembered what she was supposed to be doing. The showers at the school never got hot enough for Sarah, and she never felt really clean. She was beginning to wonder if that were not also part of the plot. She scrubbed herself with the luffa that Karen had thoughtfully placed in the shower until her skin glowed. Soon she had her hair pulled up in a pony tail, and was coming down the stairs in casual attire. "I'm starving," she announced as she took a seat at the breakfast table where Karen had already placed a mug of coffee for her.

Robert, his nose in the paper smiled to himself as he sipped from his mug. If anyone looked at them right now they would never know that Sarah was the victim of circumstance and that they were not the average American family. "Good coffee, honey." He murmured as he read his paper.

Karen rolled her eyes and Toby clapped his hands. Sarah sipped her coffee, thinking of what she had to accomplish in the next few days. She looked up at Karen, "I need to go shopping tomorrow, would you take me… please?"

"Of course," Karen said placing the breakfast down in front of the girl. "Any place you want to go. Toby has a play date next door at Millers' and I'm sure they'll be only too happy to watch him." She served Robert his breakfast and took a seat to feed Toby who without help would only make a mess and smile all the while he was doing it.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Jareth stood with the Court Taylor and the Leather Master; he was having a final fitting before his appointment at the Courts of the High King. He turned to them, "Well, am I ready or not?"

"Not," lamented the Leather Master in dark tones. "If that blasted meathead with your weapons does not show up, there's no sense in going at all."

Devon watching snickered and rejoined. "I agree, let call the whole thing off and go fishing."

Jareth ignored his cousin's sarcasm. "He'll be here," he said with confidence as he looked at himself one more time in the full length mirror he'd had brought up to his chambers. "I would have liked the cloak to be longer." He critiqued.

"You want it to drag on the floor?" Devon made a face of distaste.

"I want it to sweep behind me as I stride, yes!" Jareth placed his hands on his hips. "I want to be the most majestic presence they've ever seen."

The Taylor frowned and reached under the King's cloak to unhook the gathered material on the shoulders. "Better?"

Jareth looked at the sweeping cape. "Yes, that's what I had in mind…" he turned to Devon. "Image how dramatic it will look as we swoop in on Dragon back."

Devon who himself had spent time with the Taylor earlier had to admire the lengths his cousin was willing to go to in order to pull this off. "Yes, you'll be amazing." He agreed, lounging in the chair with one leg hooked up over the arm. "You always are." He turned as the King's valet entered with the missing metal smith. "Ah, Rondo is here!"

Rondo, the valet gave the King's cousin a glancing glare, before turning his attentions to the King; "Your metal smith, Sire."

Jareth looked at the empty handed smith, "Joachim, I hope you have a good excuse."

"I do," nodded the metal working goblin, wiping his hands on an oily cloth, "I have a very good excuse, the weapons you required are on their way up now."

Jareth shook his head, not sure if the man understood he was in trouble. As he opened his mouth to redress the man, the Metal Smith's apprentices entered carrying the weapons and armoring mail the King had ordered. They carried something else as well, and the sight of it had the King silenced. In a wooden frame was an intricate ring of Celtic knots and leaf work that held as its center piece a replica of the King's amulet. Jareth looked at the smith, "I didn't order that," he whispered in awe.

"No Sire," agreed the Goblin. "WE felt it was time…."

Devon had lowered his feet to the floor and was approaching. "A King's circlet," he murmured respectfully.

"A Goblin's Circlet," corrected the Goblin harshly. "For the Goblin's King," he said turning to his King. "I was just finishing it." He took it from the frame, handed it to the King and bowed. "Accept this offering from your subjects, Sire."

Jareth overwhelmed with a depth of emotion he'd never felt before stood holding the handsome metal ring in his hands. Turning to the mirror he raised the circlet up high above his head and slowly lowered it to his brow. "King Jareth, Lord of the Goblin Realm." He stated as he crowned himself.

The Metal Smith went to his knees, as did the valet and the Taylor and the Leather Master. Devon also went down on one knee, he understood something most profound had just happened, and he had to honor it. In this one defining moment, Devon had witnessed his cousin truly grow to be the King he'd played at for centuries. Looking about at the others, he realized just how much a part of this Kingdom he too had become. A surge of pride filled him, and he looked again at Jareth, his King.

Jareth turned to look at them, bowed and kneeling to him. "See to it our people are ready to leave in two hours. I want to be on Avalon soil for the Solstice ceremony before the sun rises." He addressed Devon.

Devon rose to his feet, "I will, my King." He motioned everyone but the metal smith out.

Jareth turned to the Goblin; "My sword," he held his hands out. The blade was some of the finest Goblin metal work ever done. It was perfectly balanced, and deadly accurate. It felt natural in the hands of the Fae who'd requested its creation. He tired it on for size and weight, and found it was perfectly fitted to his scabbard and the length of arm and leg. He drew it with a lighting swiftness. It flashed in the light and sang in the wind as he whipped it through the air. He smiled wickedly; "Excellent," said in admiration of the workmanship of blade and hilt.

"The matching daggers, my King," he fitted them into the slits he'd asked the leather maker to design into the belt the sword was secured with. "The boot daggers," again the man knelt this time to secure a dagger to both the King's Goblin Leather footwear. "And as you requested he secured a thing blade like pin to the King's cloak, giving the appearance of a cloak claps or pin, hiding its true nature.

Jareth approved of the reflection looking back at him, "Joachim," he said not in the least distracted, "I recall another matter we discussed, have you seen to it?" 

"It was not without it's difficulties," the Metal Smith put in plain words his explanation. "But it has been seen to, Sire."

Jareth sneered into the mirror. "Good," he turned and waved the man off, moved to his table and poured a glass of clear wine. Raising the glass to his lips he inclined his head toward the wide open window that only a winged creature could reach. "Why not join me, Sadeka." He spoke the invitation quietly before turning to the window.

The young and brash Harpy maiden entered her eyes like flames, and her black hair wild in the night wind. "Thee has good senses," she sneered. "It seems a pity to have to end your reign without having bred you." She pulled a blade from her belted harness, rushing toward the King.

Jareth watched her come, side stepping the blow that would have been fatal not because it was near a vital organ but because she held an iron blade in her trembling hand. He pulled a whip from out of the air, cracked it and the blade was torn from her fingers. The next crack tore into her wing and gave her such blinding pain that she didn't see the next blow, the one that ended her short life. Drawing a crystal from the air, he summoned the Matron. Half an hour later he sat alone in his chamber with the fallen Harpy when Iris arrived with two other Harpies.

Iris looked at Sadeka and shook her head, "I feared this would happen." She looked at the King. "Did she die well?"

"She died in battle," Jareth muttered. "But it should have been in battle with the enemies of this Kingdom, not it's King, Matron." His voice was cold steel, his eyes volcanic heat.

The woman nodded, "Sadeka was a fool," she stated. The Harpies at her side watched the King along with her, waiting to see what his displeasure would bring.

"Is this how much an oath means to the Harpy Clan?" He demanded as he left the chair. "That one of my own personal guards would try to assassinate me?" Low cold fury filled the even tone but didn't overtake the man's sensibilities. He crossed his arms over his Goblin leather armor breast plate. "This one would have me fail before I even begin the battle, how many other's among your race are of the same opinion?"

Iris would not grovel, but she would bargain. "Sire," she said placing hands on her beautifully curved hips and holding her head up proudly. "I wish I could say Sedeka was the one renegade and that she acted alone. However I can not in good faith say that. I'm sure there are other's and not just Harpies who fear the door you are about to open."

"Do you fear this door?" He asked icily moving toward her until there was but a foot separating them. "Do you and yours wish to return to the brink of extinction?"

Iris looked up at him with admiration as well as respect, and more than a touch of fear. "We are yours Sire," she said with conviction. "All Harpies of my clan who are not with you will be clan less."

Jareth looked down at the corpse on his bedchamber floor. "Get rid of that," he commanded. Iris never took her eyes off the King, she snapped her fingers and the two who had come with her scooped up what was left of Sadeka to be carried off and fed to the beasts of the forest that ate carrion.

"Would my King like me to replace that worthless slut?" Iris asked as if asking about the weather.

Jareth shook his head, "I think three Harpies are better than none." He moved toward the window looking out at the night sky. "I share this sky with you… I too hunt at night for the most part."

Iris came to his side, "I've seen your owl form."

He nodded. "Iris, make your women understand… to survive we must succeed. To succeed we can not war amongst ourselves, we must stand united." His voice was urgent. "Or else we will all pass into extinction. That alternative is unacceptable."

"If it were possible for a Harpy to have a brother," she whispered to him with every fiber of sincerity and assurance, "I would want him to be you."

Jareth didn't look at her, he understood and nodded again. "Stand at my side at the High Court tomorrow, Iris." He didn't ask, nor command; rather it was King inviting Matron.

"I had planned to… with honor," she spoke one more word. "_**Rhuukhaar**_!" She had used the Goblin word for brother.

"Teraar," He said in return, accepting her as sister, as many monarchs accepted other monarchs. "We leave in a few hours, be ready." He turned and began to walk away.

"Where do you go now," she asked softly watching him move toward the doors of his chamber.

"To pray the Goddess is on my side." He called over his shoulder. "I have not had much luck with the females in my life of late, and she is one I can ill afford to piss off." He heard the cackle laughter of the Harpies he'd left behind.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Jareth moved down the stair to the private chapel he'd neglected during all the time he'd been King. He went alone now, as he had no right to ask any to shoulder the responsibility that was his alone. He stood before the green crystal doors, took a deep breath and pulled the handles of the doors expecting tornados of dust or hinges in dire need of oiling. No creak sounded, no torrent of dust attacked him, the doors opened as if they were newly installed. He stepped into the chamber to find the room was clean and well lit. It was a room of decent measurement, nearly as large as his throne room. Directly across from the crystal doors, at the far end of the chamber stood a tall statue of the Goddess in a niche surrounded on either side by a waterfall that fell gracefully into a basin at the foot of the Goddess' image. She was beautiful, Danu, the great mother, patron of rebirth and fertility. The statue was carved in green granite, depicting her as a young and beautiful woman. In her hands was a round platter to receive the offerings, her shoulders and head were covered with a long flowing cloak. Here eyes were half shut, as if in deep contemplation. Her face was not peaceful, nor was it angry, but it was poised, like one ready to hear a supplication. In the greenish light of the chapel she almost seemed to be alive, and breathing and not cold stone.

Jareth needed her blessing, and he knew it. He also knew he didn't really deserve it. He had not kept holy her days, nor kept the high feasts, nor even moved the Goblins back to worship. He was unworthy, and knew it, and was heartily ashamed of his lack of integrity and righteousness. He was not a humble man, nor would he insult the Goddess and begin to pretend to be one. He let the doors close behind him, walked forward with his head held high until he reached the King's custom made prie dieu personal kneeler. He went to his knees and looked up at the gentle face of the Goddess that seemed to be looking down at him.

"Oh Danu," he began as he'd been taught so long ago; his voice was reverent at least. "Oh great mother of us all…" He paused. "I know I don't deserve your least attention. I've been a miserable, spoiled little monster and a most unpleasant child." He swallowed, "I pray that you are the kind of mother who overlooks her child's flaws and looks to see his heart." He felt a sudden rush of emotion.

"I love this Kingdom Goddess!" He announced with more emotion than he'd realized he'd been penning up. "I have been too blind to see just how much I love this kingdom and my subjects. However, dearest Mother, my eyes are open now, and I see a path that must be followed least we become nothing." He looked deeply at the statue. "I pray you bless me, and my people as we strive to become what we should have been." He looked down, "I can not promise to be more than I was… but I shall try…"

"Give me your sword," a voice in the stillness rang out.

Jareth looked at the face of the Goddess, startled.

"Give me your sword," the voice repeated in the same firm tone.

Rising from the prie dieu kneeler the young Fae King approached the statue of his Goddess, she who was considered the mother of the Fae. He removed his blade and placed it without scabbard upon the offering plate and knelt before the statue without benefit of kneeler or pillow. He'd been deep in prayer and had not heard the others enter behind him. Devon moved by some inner need knelt behind his cousin. Iris entered the chapel having been drawn there as well also went to her knees. Soon the others entered Goblin, Elf, Hobgoblin, Kobold, Dyad, Fiery, and many others. All they who were to represent the subjects who dwelled within the Labyrinth lands of the Goblin Kingdom had been drawn to the King's Chapel. When Jareth rose to his feet he placed his hands on the sword he'd just dedicated to the Goddess. As he removed it from the offering plate he noticed the change. He'd asked for a sign and here it was. He raised the hilt to eye level. Both hilt and blade now were etched deeply with the symbol of the Labyrinth. "Thank you, Mother." He said in wonder, turning and finding him-self not alone, he raised the blade high and boldly spoke out to those in attendance. "We go forth, and reclaim what is ours… in the name of the Goddess mother…Danu." He then sheathed his blade and tugged at his new leather gloves. "Let us go forth."

Devon and Iris both wore smiles as they turned to follow the Goblin King.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Rising before the sun on Monday the twenty first, the girl who had slept but not rested took a cigarette and matches out to the back of the yard. Bundled up in her coat, and watching the snow fall, she smoked the first cigarette she'd needed. She faced the east, witnessing the sun begin to rise. Something deep inside her seemed to be filled with an awaking.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

The skies over the blessed isle of Avalon were filled with Dragons. The High King and his entourage were already making their way to the sacred grounds. He heard the murmurs of wonder, and some of disgust behind him. He chose to ignore all of it, he had a sacred duty and that was more important. The High Queen stole a glance, but seeing his countenance chose to keep her feelings masked as well. The grounds where the sacred circle stood was already beginning to fill with beautiful and powerful Fae creatures. The sunrise would not wait, and the High King knew this. He had performed this ceremony countless times, greeting the new born sun as it began its rise in the sky. He took his place and prepared to greet the birth of the Oak King when there was a commotion at the approach of what some would call unwanted worshipers.

Jareth strode at the forefront of the approaching throng of creatures. They were not beautiful; they were the things that nightmares are made of. A dark murmur arose, and a protest to their presence. Jareth looked at the High King whose own mask of indifference had slipped just a bit. Oberon nodded, as if some inner sense told him that the world was about to change. He cleared his throat, all protests and murmuring ceased and the ceremony began.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Karen drove to the newest mall in the area, telling Sarah how fine and reasonable the shops there seemed to be. She told the girl she wanted to buy her a new special outfit for the wonderful celebration the family had planned for Christmas. Sarah had been quiet, but pleasant on the journey over.

The mall was like a beehive even though it was still early in the day. Karen commented that it would likely get worse as the day drew on. After all, Christmas was but a few days away and the last minute shoppers were all gathering at all the local stores. Sarah stiffened at the sight of all the people, her inner demons all shouting and tearing at her soul. Karen touched her arm lightly; the girl didn't jump at her touch but seemed to relax just a bit. Karen smiled. "There's a nice little store at this end of the mall, and it's not usually very crowded." She told Sarah, understanding the girl's inner fears. Sarah appreciated that Karen was trying, and she promised to try to relax.

As they walked toward the store something caught Sarah's eye. A new toy store had opened, and in the display window was a lovely little plush toy. It resembled a cross between a fox terrier and a squirrel, and was dressed in a velvet jerkin with gold braiding and wore a plumed cap. In the hand of the little creature was a swagger stick in the shape of a little staff of power. Sarah moved past the crowds and stood looking down at it, smiling. She was not sure why. She turned to Karen, "I'm getting that for Toby," excitedly the girl told her stepmother; she entered the shop and requested the little toy in the window. The girl behind the counter told her the price, and Sarah opened up her wallet to extract the bills needed. Moments later, the little toy was boxed and wrapped and in a bag on Sarah's arm. She exited the shop and smiled at her companion. "Toby will love it."

"It was rather a strange looking little thing," Karen commented. "Like something out of one of your fairytale books." She hooked her arm into the girls. "I just don't understand why you were so adamant."

Sarah tried to find a reason, but she couldn't. "I can't explain it… it's as if I know… or knew this… it's so familiar but I can't seem to recall from where… or when."

Karen shrugged, "Some things are like that." She ushered the girl into the little dress store.

The shop was nicely lit, and had an open airy feeling to it. Sarah's eye caught a sign as they entered the establishment; it read…Protected by video security. She smiled to herself knowing more and more stores were using this form of security, and more and more malls had central security stations monitoring the halls and even some of the better stores. The interior of the store was a soft shell pink, and cream. There were satin covered seats and benches with the same colored coverings as the walls. The lights were hung in such a manner as not to be obtrusive but gave enough light that the place seemed most cheery.

A woman dressed in a very becoming two piece suit came to where they stood. "May I help you?" she asked pleasantly.

Karen nodded, "We need something stunning for the young lady for our Christmas dinner party." She smiled toward the girl who was holding on by threads. "Some green I think."

"I think we may have something that will please you both," the woman said in that same pleasant tone. "Something that will complement that lovely complexion," she motioned the pair to follow her. At a rack of becoming frocks, she began pulling some off the rack and handed them to Karen for Sarah. "I think this is a good start."

Sarah tried on a dress of green jersey that hugged her feminine curves. She came out of the dressing room to show it to Karen, who immediately said. "We'll take that one!" and waved the girl into the dressing room. Sarah brought out the dress when she came out to show her the second dress, but neither one really liked it as much as the first. Karen took the first dress over to the register to pay for it as Sarah went into the dressing room again to change into the last dress. The hair on the back of her neck rose, and something told her danger was at hand.

Opening the door of the dressing room she came face to face with Marion. "Oh God," she groaned aloud. "Little Mary Sunshine," looking beyond the girl with golden curls she saw the rest of the clique. "And her merry… men."

"So they let you out of the booby hatch," Marion said not really listening to what Sarah had said. "That was a mistake." She looked down at the dress Sarah was trying on. "That's a whorish dress," she sneered.

"Then you should try it one, it will be right up your alley." Sarah retorted.

Marion went white with anger; "Take that back." She demanded harshly.

"If the shoe fits…." Sarah said in a dead calm tone.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

The King's palace on Avalon was a show place. High walls arched ceilings and marble and gold everywhere. It was beautiful, almost painfully so. The Fae who gathered here were in their minds the cream de la cream of Fae society. They didn't so much walk as much as they floated hither and fro. In every alcove and quiet corner one would spot them being, beautiful… not really busy doing anything just being beautiful.

Oberon had taken his place on his throne and was preparing to listen to the litany of praises that were always given at one of these gatherings. His Queen seemed distracted, her eyes on a gathering throng in the back of the great hall. She placed a hand on his and tapped with her index finger, a long ago created signal between them to alert the other to danger or a problem. Oberon turned his attention toward the place she was looking. The courtiers stopped fluttering about, and gathered on the sidelines as the group began to make their way up the center isle of the chamber to address the High King. Murmurs and protests were renewed. How dare Jareth bring these filthy creatures into the High Court?

Taking a closer look at the man leading the assembled collection of creatures, Oberon found the very breath freeze in his throat. The boy was no longer dressed in romantic style, nor in play clothes as Oberon had called them. No, today he was dressed in Royal Goblin Regalia. Goblin Leather, mail and cloaked in a regal cloak as dark as the night sky. His once wild hair had been tamed and his jaw set. Upon the brow of the young Fae was a circlet that declared his position. This was the Goblin King, and these were his subjects, and he was pissed. Leaning forward, Oberon rested his elbow on his thigh as he waited.

Jareth led the members of the Goblin Court forward, pausing only when he reached the place where he was to bow toward the High King's throne. Jareth bowed, but not deeply as other who wanted to make a great show of it did. He gave a graceful half bow from the waist, and showed respect to the High King, if not the rest of his court. "My lord High King, we of the Goblin Court greet thee."

"King Jareth, we are pleased to see you at court… you are so often… absent from us." Oberon chose his words carefully. He was not of the same mind as so many of his court, but it was always best not to tip one's hand.

Straightening up, the Goblin King removed the scroll he'd been carrying. "I'm not sure if you won't wish I were absent once more," he stated firmly as he moved toward the dais steps, the scroll extended now to the High King. He released the scroll into the hands of the elder Fae and respectfully stood back while the King read it. The courtiers began to mutter again, come complained loudly enough to be heard by the Goblin's court members who ignored them. Jareth knew they would follow his lead, and his lead alone.

Oberon looked up from the scroll, "You're serious?"

"Deadly so," stated Jareth in an icy if respectful manner.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Karen had paid for the little green dress, and was now sitting on the elegant circular divan that was just outside the dressing rooms near the back of the store. She was pleased that Sarah had liked the first dress so much, and she knew the girl would look breathtaking in the little frock. She hoped the rest of the day was going to go as well, and settled back against the tufted back of the divan.

Sarah stood her ground, "I'm not taking back anything."

"You think you've had it bad up to now? I can make everything you've been through up to now seem like a tea party;" Threatened the girl with golden curls moving forward.

Even though she felt the panic rise she stood her ground. "Fuck off," she sighed in a slightly exasperated tone.

Marion stepped forward, slapping the girl swiftly as Judy and Gale rushed forward. Jean backed away fearfully turning her face to the wall for fear of what she was about to witness. Both Judy and Gale grabbed arms and shoved Sarah against the wall at the back of the dressing area. Carol laughed as Marion's hands went to the girl's throat and began to close in. There was a murderous gleam in Marion's eyes as she and the others fell on Sarah. The look didn't last long. As the victim opened her mouth and instead of a peal or a squeal a roar sounded. Jean cowered down in a small ball as the other four were thrown back.

Karen rose to her feet, dropping the bundle she'd been holding and gasped. "Sarah!"

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Oberon handed the scroll back to the Goblin King who turned to the court, "I've come here to issue a warning to every Kingdom that boarders my own. No longer will we sit by and allow the plundering of our Kingdom. You've all dumped your unwanted on my Kingdom for generations…. And while I will keep my land open to the refugees, I will no long allow you to trample on me and mine…" Jareth roared.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

"Don't you ever put your hands on me again," Sarah roared in retaliation to the girls who were cowering and acting as if they were the injured party here. "I'm not here to be your puppet, nor your punching bag you stupid sluts."

The manager and two clerks entered and found the four who'd attacked looking like the victims. Sarah stood, disheveled to be sure but looking like an Amazon in comparison. Suddenly Marion stood up and screamed that Sarah had attacked them, and she needed to be restrained. Sarah looked at the manager, her voice low, dark and deathly dangerous. "Do you have surveillance of this area?" She nodded and Sarah went on. "I want to see the tape…"

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Majestically Jareth stood on the steps, looking at the court. "You've rejected us, and now we are rejecting you… No more will the King on the Goblin throne turn his back and do nothing while you exterminate his subjects and enforce unnatural laws upon his Kingdom. This is my declaration of independence from the Seelie courts." He held up the scroll. "From this moment forward, I am The Goblin King first and foremost."

A Fae woman lightly licked her lips; she'd never seen the young Fae King seem more Godlike. Her mother leaned closer. "He will need a Queen," she suggested with a knowing smile. "Why should it not be you?"

Jareth turned to the High King. "I respect you, High King, and I will remain respectful of you… but I will not tolerate those who would jeer or demean my court." He waved a hand at the assembled representatives he'd brought with him. "We here represent the Goblin Court…and from now on, you're all going to have to deal with us. Our boarders will be guarded and we will not tolerate plundering or marauding. If the Kingdoms that boarder my lands wish to trade with us, they had best amend their ways… because if not, it's no skin off our noses…We can sustain without the outside world, can you get along without Goblins? I wonder?" He bowed to the High King and made his way back to his court and motioned them that they were leaving.

Oberon watched the reactions, some not knowing if he were serious scoffed. Others jeered, but the High Queen grabbed his hand. "Make amends; offer an olive branch, don't let him leave us like this."

The High King called out, "King Jareth," his voice was deep and powerful. As the younger King turned slightly, Oberon raised a hand and blessed him. "Hail, Goblin King." His voice was forceful and proud.

The High Queen also rose and saluted Jareth. The court stood frozen. Jareth inclined his head and led his court out of the Avalon palace.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

The tape had shown what Sarah knew it would, and she sat vindicated as the manager told the four who'd attacked her that they would be banned from the establishment for good. Marion fussed and tried to blame Sarah, who was sitting looking like a gargoyle, a watcher of the sinful.

Karen issued a formal complaint with the security of the mall, and ushered Sarah out to the car once she'd changed into her street clothes. Once in the car, Karen took a long deep breath, and turned to Sarah. "Hail Caesar," she said in a quite tenor.

Sarah crossed her arms and smiled. "I feel like shopping somewhere else….Let's try that shop on Main Street…"

Karen felt a corner being turned, and was not sure if she should cheer or gasp. Instead she drove the girl to the destination requested.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

The assembled Goblin Court sat in the State dinning room, with the king at the high table. Devon rose to his feet, raised his goblet and toasted his cousin. "Hail, the Goblin King." One by one the attending rose and echoed the toast. Dark stormy eyes moved across the room, it was only the beginning, he told himself. Just the first steps, but they were strong steps without faltering. He took up his Goblin and rose, "To Danu, mother of us all…."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Sarah sat in the dark, on her window seat, a mug of hot chocolate in her hands. She scrutinized the night sky, not sure what she was searching so hard for. Something in her memory, that was just out of reach. "To Sarah, who will vanquish all who go against her," she whispered darkly and began to laugh a quiet and malevolent sounding dark laugh.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8. Battle lines in the sands**

Sarah hated long goodbyes; she hated short ones as well. Karen gave her a lingering close hug releasing her only when she heard the girl cough. Sarah looked at Toby pouting, she picked him up. "Give me a good long one, Toby…. Your hug has to last me." She coaxed him tenderly. It had sunk in somewhere around New Years Eve that only Toby, Robert and oddly enough Karen seemed to be able to touch her during this visit without sending her running for cover. Her father's partner's wives had tried being supportive. Sarah understood that, but the touch had nearly given her convulsions.

Robert held the car door for her, regretting he had to tell Karen and Toby to stay behind. Yet again Sarah had been clear on her wishes. She didn't want Toby to see that hell hole! He pulled the car from the curb with his wife and son waving madly away. He looked at the road. Sarah pulled a cigarette out of her pocket and lit up.

"I hope you don't mind," she said letting her window down to allow the smoke to escape. "I really need this."

"Not at all," he stated cordially.

Sarah looked slyly over at him, seeing not just her father, but a handsome and dependable male… He was distinguished if not imaginative, and able to hold a decent conversation for more than the time it took to check out a woman's chest. "Would you like one?" she asked.

"Yes, I think I would," He mused as he drove. Sarah took out her pack and lit one up for him and handed it carefully to him as he drove. He smiled, "I thank you."

"Welcome," she drew on her own cigarette, looking back out the window. She had never had many conversations with her father, and was uncertain of how to start one. "Thank you for a lovely Christmas Break, Daddy."

"I'm glad you enjoyed most of it," he commented. "I know there were a few rough spots, and I know how hard you tried to conceal them."

"Hard truth and honesty time, Daddy," she muttered turning in her seat and looking at him. "Something wacky happened…. Something I noticed, about you, me, Karen and Toby…"

"What?" He asked.

"You know how I can not bear to be touched?" The father nodded as he smoked, and she continued. "I don't seem to have that problem with you… and I remember not having that problem last summer with Mom either. Don't you think that's kind of …Well, strange?" her voice wavered a bit.

Robert pulled off the road and cut the engine, for a few moments he didn't say anything. He just sat there smoking, when something must have clicked. "You mean to tell me you can't deal with anyone's touch except ours?" He looked at her with a confused face; "Since when?"

Sarah thought it over and came up with the only answer she had. "You remember the night of the big storm…and how sick I felt the next day?" His face showed that he remembered it well; "Since then."

"That's why you told Toby to make the hug a good one? Because it's the last good hug you'll feel until Spring break?"

Sarah nodded again. "Daddy, that does not fit the symptoms of this aliment. It's all right and it's all wrong."

Robert looked in his review mirror, "God damn it, we're being followed."

"Get back on the road," she suggested snubbing out her still burning cigarette. "Whoever they are, we don't want to sit here any longer."

Robert looked at her, "What happened to you this holiday? You're like… taking control."

"That's exactly what I'm doing… and Daddy, I want you and Karen to keep clear of the fallout." She turned to look out the window. "I've a feeling there's going to be lots of it."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

In the cold crisp sunlight of winter, St. Ambrose didn't actually look that bad. In fact Sarah was surprised that it looked good, really good. She was even more surprised that she'd actually missed the joint. She laughed under her breath wickedly, thinking she'd either blown a gasket or she had gone round the bend. Her father helped her carry her one bag up to her room and walked with her on the grounds until it was time for him to get back in his car to return home. Sarah hugged him, enjoying the last touch she'd be able to bare, and holding him in her embrace a bit longer than was perhaps wise. The fact that he didn't seem to rush the end of the embrace should worried them both, yet it didn't.

"I'll call at the end of the week," he placed his hand to her cheek with a soft touch. "You take care of yourself."

"You too, Daddy," she watched as he got in his car and then returned to her dorm. Before entering her room she stopped at the monitor's station and announced in a no nonsense tone; "I want all cameras taken out of my dorm room and I want them removed now, or I'll call the State's Attorney General."

The monitor looked up at her, startled, the worried. "You'll what?"

"You heard me," she said calmly. "And you can tell that quack Doctor I'm through taking his medications."

The monitor blinked, not sure of what to do.

"Oh and have a nice fucking day," Sarah turned on her heel and moved toward her room. She expected the monitor to follow; when she saw he was still seated with his jaw down on his chest she snapped her fingers. "Move it or lose it!" she ordered coldly. "You take them down or I will and I won't be careful about it."Other students were now peering out their doors, watching the girl order the monitor about like a lackey. One was "Large" Marge, her eyes grew round and wide, and her lips quivered but no words came.

The monitor called a number on and spoke in a panicked voice into the phone in his hand. He replaced the receiver and went down the hall to where Sarah stood. "I'm sorry, Miss Williams, your request is denied…." He gasped. "Where are you going?"

Sarah flung open her door and looked about the room for the hidden cameras. "Did you know that what you are doing is against the law?" She ripped the first camera she found out of the wall and tossed it out the door; "That you and Doctor Daniels could face fines of up to a thousand dollars a day?" She tossed the second camera she found over the head of the monitor who had made the mistake of trying to grab her. She placed the palm of her hand into his chest and shoved him back against a wall. "Don't touch me," she said darkly. "I don't like to be touched." She then moved away from him and looked for another camera; she could sense there was one more.

Doctor Daniels shouted at her, "What do you think you're doing destroying my equipment?"

"You're not my Doctor," she informed him. "There fore you have no right to video me… and I'm exercising my rights to rid my room of unwanted cameras… Oh and since my father paid for a single room for me, I'll be expecting no more unwanted roommates." Sarah wiped her hands clean on her skirt. "You're only allowed to monitor the halls and grounds according to the By laws of the Schools charter… I checked. Oh and get the hell out of my room, Doctor Daniels, you're not welcome here."

Daniels was about to order the monitor to restrain the girl when he noticed the gathering crowd and someone applauding. The girl applauding was a very tall, very athletic looking young woman. One by one the rest of the girls joined in, and Daniels had no recourse but to pick up his equipment and leave. Sarah looked at the girl leading the applause; it was "Large" Marge.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Jareth joined Devon in the Great Hall, "I hope you have good reason for disturbing me," he griped. "I've a Kingdom to turn around you know."

"The best," Devon handed him a scroll of petitions and supplications. "It appears some of the High Court is actually taking what you said on Solstice to heart." Devon then pointed to a new dais he'd designed and had installed at the far end of the Great Hall. "I think this will make a better place to hold regular court rather than the Goblin Hall. Keep the Goblin hall private for you and our little friends."

Jareth looked at the throne on the dais, "I hate that thing." He grumbled. "It's too froufrou."

"This is a replica of the High King's state throne," protested the disgruntled Devon.

Jareth waved one arm and the elaborate gold gilt and ornately carved throne disappeared, replaced by a replica of his other throne. "This is the Goblin Kingdom, not Avalon junior." He reminded the other in a gruff manner. "I'm not Oberon, and I don't hold court in a palace of gold and ivory."

Devon shrugged, "I was just trying to…"

"I know, but I don't want that kind of help." Jareth cut his words to the quick. "However, using the Great Hall for formal audiences is a fine idea. One I should have thought of, but you've saved me the effort, and I'm grateful." Like a graceful cat he moved across the floor toward the new throne, "I think we need to make this a bit more dramatic," He waved a hand and the faded draping over the chair changed to darkest purple with burnished gold flur de les. Another wave and the heavy metal that held the draping on were polished brightly, and even the ivory tusk that made up the back of his throne was impressively polished. The carving in the base was much more pronounced and the entire effect was extraordinary imposing. He raised a brow as he turned to Devon for comments.

"Show off," Devon crossed his arms over his chest. "Well don't just stand there, finish the job matching hangings and banners will complete the effect." He suggested tightly.

Tossing a crystal into the air and watching it grow until it exploded into a thousand pieces, Jareth smiled. "Oh like this?"

The room was magnificent, impressive and imposing, and not at all like anything at Avalon. Devon nodded, "When would you like to hold your first real court?"

"A week from today," Jareth said observing the work they'd done. "Yes, a week should give me time."

"Time for what?" Devon called after the retreating monarch. "Jareth! Time for what?"

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Mrs. Browning sat quietly listening to the Doctor's complaints. She waited until he finished. "The girl is right, you're not her doctor… and putting cameras in her room was a very stupid thing to do."

"I need to observe my subjects," he ranted. "She destroyed expensive equipment, without so much as batting an eye lash. Telling me the by laws of the schools charter." In a snit he threw himself into a chair; "Where did she get a copy of the by laws anyway?" He pouted childishly.

The Head Mistress sighed, "I told you every student gets a copy," she folded her hands on her desk. "The fact that almost none of them read it has always been in our favor." Browning was not happy and the Williams girl made her nervous. "Dylan," she addressed him by his surname, "I don't like this… you said when I came here it would be easier than the prison system to work in. It's not, and I really don't see it getting better."

Daniels frowned. "My experiment is more important than how you feel."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Sarah entered the dinning hall, and the news of her having evicted the cameras from her dorm room had spread. Students who had ignored her before were suddenly greeting her with respect and admiration. Lilith and Bryn joined her at the corner table, they too had heard and Lilith was teasingly calling her a one girl wrecking crew. But it was the hovering figure of "Large" Marge that Sarah noticed. Sarah looked up at the girl who'd been her roommate for such a short time, wondering if she was going to have to give her a dressing down. But what she saw in the other girl's eyes was not a challenge it was respect and approval.

Because she'd been defensive before, Sarah had never taken the time to really look at Marge Christianson. This morning, in this dingy dining hall, Sarah Williams saw what no one else took the time to see. Marge was scared. Sarah understood fear, and she knew how it could make a person do stupid things. "Marge, why don't you sit down?" Lilith seemed surprised, but held her counsel, Bryn waited to see what was going to happen next. Sarah motioned to the chair next to her. "Come on, sit."

The larger girl placed her tray down and meekly took a seat. "Thank you." She looked at Sarah and gushed out quickly. "That was the most amazing thing I ever saw! You're so brave, and …"

Lilith blinked and shook her head, could this awe struck girl be the same girl who had put the fear of God into so many underclassmen?

Sarah sipped her orange juice. "Liked that did you?" she teased, making the larger girl laugh almost care freely. Marge was acting like a star struck fan, her eyes were filled with admiration. Sarah decided to engage her in conversation and draw her out. "Marge, are you taking the second semester of applied science?" When the tall girl nodded, Sarah went on. "Would you like to form a study group? If we get a group of four or five of us, it'll be easier for us to cover all the material."

Marge's big blue eyes widened and blinked quickly. "You mean you're asking me to join you?"

Lilith saw it, and leaned back, "I'll be damned." She muttered.

Bryn snickered.

Sarah gave Marge a nod. "Pax?"

Relief and long pent up fear flooded the bigger girls face. "Oh yes, please…"

Leaning forward again Lilith asked quietly, "Marge why were you sent here?"

"Anger management issues…" she confessed a bit embarrassedly. "I've always been big for my age… family trait… and I like sports… hard sports…field hockey, soccer, girls' basket ball… things like that… I used to get into fights because of the way other girls would tease me…." She looked at the door where she saw Doctor Daniels watching them with interest. "He called me an ugly goblin."

Sarah narrowed her eyes as she turned to look at the man, feeling murderous. "That bastard." She softened her gaze as she turned back to the bigger girl. "You're no Goblin," she said softly.

Marge's eyes watered as she opened her mouth and sobbed softly. "I can't help being …big…"

Lilith knew Sarah could not reach out her hands as she'd very much like to, so she extended hers instead. Taking Marge's hand and giving it a understanding squeeze. "Of course you couldn't help being big… not if it's a family trait… And there's nothing wrong in being able to compete at sports, it's a wonderful skill."

Bryn also placed a hand on Marge's, "I've seen you play… your great!"

Marge turned to Sarah. "I'm so sorry about how I acted when they put me in your room…"

"Not your fault," Sarah sighed. "You were just doing what you'd been programmed to do. I don't hold you responsible." She encouraged the larger girl. "So what do you say, Marggie? Want to form a study group?"

"Yes," Marge nodded excitedly. "You bet I do… thank you…Sarah."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Robert sat in the office of the Government official he'd been keeping in touch with. "I don't understand, why isn't he being stopped?"

"Until now we had no…proof he'd done anything more than study the effects of sleep disorders and anger issues at that school." Director Davis stated calmly. "Robert, he's never before hired anyone to watch a student's family like this. We're not sure what he's up to…"

Robert frowned, "I don't like having my daughter used as a lab rat… she was sent there to take classes on how to redirect her anger… all that's happened is they have tried to make her Angier…. And she told me that they prescribed meds for her that caused her to be ill."

Davis clasped his hands and formed a steeple with his index fingers, resting his chin on the spire. "Robert, we have to move carefully. I understand your concerns… but we have to move very carefully. I've taken steps to make sure these agents spying on you can not touch you or your family. Your safety is assured."

"I'm not worried about my safety," Robert muttered.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Daniels looked at the list of drugs he'd used on the Williams girl, and turned to his assistant. "We're upping the dosage."

"Sir, she refused to come to the infirmary to receive her dosage." The assistant had not wanted to break the news but had little choice.

The man directing the research frowned, "We'll have to introduce it to her system another way."

"Sir, that's a direct violation of the code, we're not allowed…"

"Do it," Daniels ordered coldly. "That little bitch is not going to tell me what I can and can not do … this school is mine." He dialed a number and spoke into the speaker in a low voice. "Move in on the boy, he may be our key."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

No summons had come in days, and the King was gratified. He was feeling enough pressure with having to hold court, real court, and didn't have the attention a runner in the Labyrinth would have required. He looked at all the preparations, and the extent his Goblins were willing to extend them selves. He was going over the last of the check lists that Devon had created and was again glad he'd put his fastidious cousin in charge of staging this pantomime. He was reading over his cousin's shoulder when a gaggle of Goblins rushed into the Great Hall speaking in the most ancient of Goblin dialects. Devon looked worriedly at Jareth who apparently understood them all to well. His face had lost all expression save for anger.

"Toby," the King muttered as anger flashed in his eyes, he growled as he stomped toward the hall the Goblin gaggle had just entered from. "Devon, I'm going to the Goblin Throne room, see to it I'm not disturbed." Snapping his fingers insistently he expected the horde to follow him away from what he felt were prying eyes.

"We're not done," Devon tossed the check list over his shoulder and called out exasperatedly. "Who is Toby?" Devon turned to find him-self alone in the Great Hall. "Who the hell is Toby?" he asked again.

Jareth held a gloved hand up silencing the horde that was all babbling at once. His face was stony as he took a seat in his throne, leaning on his knees he gazed with disbelieve at them. For a few moments it was grave yard quiet until the King pointed at one hapless Goblin; "You will tell me what happened, and whose idea it was to watch that boy." His tone alerted them that he was in no mood for tomfoolery. The Goblin he'd chosen gasped as the King reached out his hand grasping its throat and pulling the creature forward, "Well, speak," he ordered in a growl.

"You never told us to stop watching the boy," it choked out before it passed out.

Jareth tossed that one aside turning his attention to another. "I'm losing my patients." He warned.

"Sire, we've been with the boy since he was… returned." A round faced little demon like creature moved forward.

"Why?" Jareth demanded in an icy manner.

The little Goblin cocked his head to one side. "Boy smells of Goblin Realm…" as if that answered everything. "He showed no fear when he was here." The others shook their heads in agreement. "Never before has a child been returned…we didn't want him to be…alone."

Jareth shook his head, "I take it you…liked the child." Again they all nodded and the King made a face. "Unbelievable," he looked for a moment as if he might laugh, but didn't. "Alright, you were watching the boy…what happened?"

"Boy belongs to Goblins," one said in a hiss.

"Mortals, not family, come and start watching boy;" Another supplied as if it were the most important fact.

Jareth snapped to look at the one who'd just spoke, "What do you mean they started to watch the boy?"

Proudly the one who'd spoken moved forward, "I seen them, they come like thieves in the night; looking with spyglasses. Poking about windows and near doors…"

"And the parents," Jareth turned to another of the horde.

"Lock doors, and windows, draw curtains…except for one…" the speaker backed down a bit unwilling to discuss the room with the open drapes and a view of the trees.

"Seems to me they are doing what can be done," Jareth mulled over the thoughts racing now. "Were the watchers doing anything else?"

Another Goblin moved slowly toward the front. "They have a box that captures images," he informed his King.

"It's called a camera," Jareth sighed darkly. "What were they doing with it?"

"Trying to capture the image of our boy;" Growled another as he too moved closer to the King. "We didn't let them."

They all scattered as the king rose to his feet and moved about the circular chamber to think. "Why would strangers want a picture of that boy?" Jareth had never had to worry about a child before; none had ever escaped his grasp. He moved about with the horde following him, mirroring his steps and his body language. "How did you prevent them from capturing Toby's image?" He paused his pacing.

"Broke the box," one said bringing his club down on the tile before him with a sneer.

"Effective," snickered the King in return. "Well, that won't stop them from trying again." He warned, and again paced amid the snickering and yammering horde. Jareth tapped his nose as he thought. He'd never seen the little buggers take such an interest in a child before. Nor had he seen them take the bull by the reigns before. He had to admit it was progress, and as King he had a sense of satisfaction if not gratification at this progress. With all he was trying to do, this was a sign that his subjects were making an effort to develop and evolve. "Who is the leader of your… band of merry making troublemakers?" he asked.

"Tonti," they all pointed to the little one who had been so bold to inform the King that the boy smelled of Goblins.

"Tonti," Jareth addressed the wide eyed creature. "Go back, and report to me if there is another incident."

"You want us to…protect the boy?" Tonti asked darkly.

Jareth smiled smugly. "He smells of Goblins, eh?" he laughed mirthlessly; "Why not?" He reached down, pulling Tonti up to eye level by his white dry straw-like hair. "I'm a very busy man, Tonti. See to it without disturbing me." He dropped the Goblin before moving back to his throne, again pondering. "Why would they want an image of _**that**_ boy?"

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Sarah sat with the rest of the study group, with them but apart. No one sat too close to her, and Marge made sure no one got too close ever. The group had gown from just five girls to fifteen. All of them looking to Sarah for leadership, and following her lead. Lilith watched with fascination as the girls migrated to her one by one.

"This keeps up, we'll be mistaken for an army," she teased Sarah.

Sarah had noticed the migration as well, "I think they are just lost and looking for a leader."

"No," Bryn disagreed. "They know… they know you're different, and they know you're the one to follow." Her words were spoken as if she were older than time.

Lilith agreed. "You're the one…"

"The one what," Sarah had asked, but today she was the one who was on guard. Something in the air smelled wrong. Sarah looked up from her book as her eyes darted about the library. "Someone's here," she whispered to Lilith who looked up swiftly.

"I see him," she answered and tapped a code out to Marge who moved to block anyone's path to Sarah.

The man wore a white hospital coat. "I'm here to see Miss Williams," he announced blithely. "Doctor Daniels wishes to see her; I'm to escort her over."

Sarah didn't look up from her book, "No."

The man looked at her in disbelieve. "I don't think you understand, it's not a request."

"No," Sarah repeated and waved the lackey off.

Marge who towered over the man glared down at him, "I should say that answers your…request."

The man glared at all of them. "You are to come with me now Williams…"

"Fuck off." Sarah said without looking away from her book.

The Librarian watched quietly amused by the confrontation and the Williams girl's cool calm. She leaned on the desk that was her station, thinking how Mr. Talbot would have liked this spunky girl.

The man turned on his heel and moved back the way he'd come. Sarah looked up and smiled at her gathered forces. She went no where no without being surrounded by girls who looked to her for leadership. Marge came back closer and looked at her for approval, and was given a nod.

Lilith looked over at the Librarian who also was grinning. "Ok, so who's still taking the meds they've been handing out?"

"None of us here," answered a girl with mousy hair and bad skin.

"Grade levels?" Sarah asked thinking aloud.

"Up over all…" Bryn looked at a chart she'd started a week earlier; "Proving that he's up to something."

Sarah crossed her arms. "He's going to lose,"

"He won't like it," suggested the Librarian from her desk quietly. All the girls turned to look at the woman, who winked before returning to her stamping of books returned. "Be careful Williams."

Lilith looked at Sarah; "She was here before Daniels…And way before Browning."

Sarah closed up her book and packed it away. "Warn all our girls to be careful… they are going to have to make a move soon… most likely it will be on me… but everyone else is to take care." They all nodded as the green eyed girl exited followed by everyone else.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Jareth took extra care with the attire for his first open court session. He would have preferred to not have court but if he were to pull this kingdom back together he was going to have to play the part of a King. That meant having court and ruling, not just playing games all day long with the Goblins. He had gone over all the known and unknown texts of Zoltarie, and was as ready as he could be. He stayed with the dark Goblin Leathers rather than the fabrics most Fae would choose. He wanted to be seen as Goblin at heart, and that meant making sacrifices in comfort and style.

He looked at his reflection; the tailor had done an amazing job at creating this court attire. It was almost sinful in its fit, and Jareth had to admit he was strikingly handsome in the one piece garment. The belt was the only contrast in the outfit, with its miniature replica of his amulet. Even the gloves gave a sinister air to him now. He looked at the tailor who was standing behind him in case the King didn't like something. "And the cloak attached to the shoulder epaulets?"

"As you required," the tailor moved toward him holding the second in a series of cloaks the King had designed. He swiftly attached the flowing garment; "As you envisioned."

Jareth ran a hand over his hair to smooth it, and then placed the Goblin Circlet upon his brow. "Have Devon and my escort arrived?"

"They await you in the outer chamber," was the answer.

One last look and Jareth turned to the tailor his face now a mask. "You shall be rewarded for your service."

"Service to your majesty is reward enough," bowed the little Goblin tailor.

Jareth motioned his valet to open the chamber door and he moved on cat light feet toward his destiny.

Devon and the escort, two Harpies, and six Goblins of various breeds stood by awaiting him. The Harpies hissed approval and growled suggestively at the King who hissed something in Harpy back. The Goblins attired in new uniforms snapped to attention and took their places. Devon who wore a dark blue military styled coat took his place at the King's side. He placed his hand on his sword as if to give silent warning. He whispered to the King; "Show time," and moved in unison with the procession.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

The Great Hall was filled to over crowding everyone who could have, had come to attend the first session of the King's new court. Fae and Goblin alike had a vested interest in the outcome of this King's efforts. Fae who had come here, some in disgrace, some in desperation, and others in an effort to stave off the boredom were all dressed in their finest. Eleven Lords and Ladies were also in attendance as was every member of the electorate representatives of the subjects of the Kingdom.

The trumpets sounded, all turned as the King entered the hall to be escorted to his receiving throne. One young Fae woman stood on tippy toe to get a better look. He was as magnificent today as he'd been a few weeks ago in the High King's court for Solstice. She wondered if she could make his heart flutter with excitement as he did hers.

Jareth took his seat, and Devon moved forward. "Let it be known this first session of the court of His Royal Highness Jareth, Goblin King is come to order…. As I call your names you may approach." He reached down and was handed a scroll by one of the scribe's little helpers. Devon began to read off names. Most of the attending just wanted to be noticed and be said to have been supportive. Few of the first called forth had any requests; half way though the list of attendees the supplicants came.

"Lady Tanya Winderspire," Devon read, "Who comes in the name of her father, Duke Winderspire on behalf of their trade accords."

Tanya moved forward, her soft gauzy gown of milkweed thread dyed a pale shade of amber went well with her coloring. Her honey and reddish gold hair was clasped high on her head and she knew she was pleasing to look at. Her softly painted lips and eye lids were done to give her an innocent look that she'd long ago lost. Looking up at the King through her darkened lashes with doe eyes she let a little bit of a smile come shyly to her lips. "Sire," she handed Devon the scroll with the families request to keep the trade accord.

"Your father is well?" Jareth asked looking at the girl with reservation.

"He is indeed well, thank you for asking, Sire." The girl answered a bit saucily.

Amused Jareth continued the interview, much to Devon's surprise. "How is it then he did not come in person to make his supplication?"

Again the girl smiled at him, "I believe he thought you'd be more… benevolent toward a pretty face, Sire."

Jareth let his eyes moved down, far lower than her face. "Indeed, did he?" He gave a lusty grunt. "Well, I shall have to thank him for his thoughtfulness." He motioned her on.

Devon leaned down to whisper in the King's ear. "That one has designs on sitting as your queen."

"She will have to learn to live with disappointment." He whispered back with a wink. He motioned Devon to read on. Down the line came a name the King had not been expecting and it set him on edge.

"Sir Didymus, of the King's guard."

The little knight now aged and moving slower than he had approached the throne, his plumed hat in hand. Arriving near the throne he bowed with a flourish. "My King." He said in a voice that was still passionate.

"Good knight," Jareth greeted in return. "What can I do for you?"

"I've come to request decommission," the little knights eyes were filled with sadness. "I find I am unable to continue my… duties."

Jareth again experienced a pang of guilt where the knight who'd been his fencing master was concerned. "Are you ill?" he asked quietly.

"Not exactly," the knight sniffed and twitched his nose.

Jareth and Devon exchanged glances. "What does that mean?" Jareth asked sharply.

Didymus squared his shoulders. "I find myself having… hallucinations," he muttered.  
"Involving a young girl I've never met."

Jareth's knuckles cracked as he shut his fist tightly; "A young girl, sir knight?" Didymus tipped his head to one side, then the other and then he nodded. Jareth placed a hand over his mouth and covered the utterance he wished no one to hear. "I see."

"Sire," blurted out the Goblin Knight, "I swear I've not gone looking for this… but I can't seem to stop it… I see her… and… I…" He pulled him self together. "I request decommission."

"Denied," Jareth said flatly.

"But Sire," the little knight protested.

"Sir Knight," the King stopped him. "This may be a premonition, and I'd be a fool to decommission someone who is as valuable as you." Upon hearing this, the knight bowed and moved back toward a face the King had not wanted to see, Hoggle.

"I thought you said you fixed that," Devon whispered as the knight moved away.

"I thought I had," the King growled.

The last names had been read, and Devon was handing the scroll to the scribe for safe keeping when a trumpet sounded and a Fae Lord from a bordering Kingdom entered the Great Hall as if it were his. Devon looked at Jareth and said quietly. "Morriagin, of …"

"Talagon," Jareth finished saying it loud enough to be taken as an addressing. "What brings you so far from your hunting grounds?"

The Fae Lord pointed to one of the King's Harpies. "That filth you've taken to using as guards… they are raiding my hunting parties." He spat at the Harpy standing on the left of the King. "I demand you destroy them, or I will."

"You will do no such thing," Jareth's voice was coldly calm. "And you will make no such threat to my guards. You have no rights in this court, you are not a citizen." All the subjects who were witness looked from the seething Fae Lord to their King was sitting in complete command. He turned to look at the Harpy who'd been spat at, "Della, dear, have you been hunting over the boarder?" His tone was deferential.

"No," she growled. "Within our boarder," her eyes didn't hide the distain with which she held Talagon. "That one and his… hunting party…crossed the boarder following a stag.. I allowed them to leave, without the stag." She leaned suggestively. "IT was very tasty."

"I see," cold mismatched eyes flamed as he turned back to the Fae. "I served warning nearly a month ago, did you not take me seriously, Talagon?"

The Fae Lord sneered, "Hear me you player King, the next Harpy I see in the skies I intend to shoot down."

He turned to exit; as he did Della sniffed the air and boasted loudly. "I would not waste my time on that, it shoots blanks."

Jareth kept the urge to snicker to himself; Devon had a coughing spasm to cover the chuffing laugh that escaped his lips. Talagon turned raised a gloved hand threateningly and roared. "You've been warned boy!"

Jareth sealed every exit without batting an eyelash, trapping the Fae Lord and his party. All eyes in the room went from one to the other. The Goblin King sat calm and in control, watching as the other began to sweat behind his bravado. "I don't make threats, Lord Talagon," he stated. "I give warning, before carrying out sentence." He inclined his head, "I here by declare all trade betwixt this Kingdom and yours at an end." He sneered. "You may leave, but do so quickly… my generosity is limited." Talagon heard the exits open and felt the rush of power that sucked him out of the King's presence. Jareth stood up as if nothing had happened. "I believe that's the end of today's audience."

Tanya watched in lustful admiration as he strode out of the Great Hall. "One day, I will be at your side," she promised herself.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Daniels struck like a thief in the night; he'd sent orderlies to the hall where Sarah's room was carrying containers filled with a gas to deepen the sleep of any who breathed it. The monitor was given a mask to wear, and the gas was pumped freely into the hall. After the tank had been emptied, they waited then entered the Williams girl's room or at least they tried to. A door now blocked the way.

Eyes watched the girl in the darkness, she smelled of Goblin scent. They hissed as the door shook and was pulled at. They snickered in glee at being able to impede and obstruct the plot against one of their own. In the darkness they were free to move about, and they looked at the girl who was now reacting to the foul gases in her room. One of the Goblins watching the girl moved to the window, forcing the locked frame to buckle and the window to pop open allowing cold winter air to clean out the stench of the gas. The girl shot up coughing violently and rushed to her commode over come with the wrenching caused by the gas. They stayed hidden watching and keeping others from reaching the girl.

Sarah heard the door rattling and grabbed the first thing she could, a field hockey stick she figured that must have been left behind by accident. "I'm armed and I'll not be taken advantage of," she announced before the door burst open. She swung at the first fool who entered after her warning. She heard the crack of bone and saw blood, but didn't think on it too much as then next fool tried to enter over the body of the fallen. She swung again, and again and again. "I said I am armed; do not enter this room without permission." Another and another orderly fell to her blows, until the last man standing moved back. He had seen ten men enter the room of the sixteen year old and be beaten to bloody pulps. He backed against the wall as groggy girls spilled into the hall. He held his hands up and backed away.

Sarah turned toward the monitor who was staying as far back as he could. "I suggest you call an ambulance," she said harshly. "And while you're at it call the cops, I'm reporting this infraction of my rights."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Smugly Daniels sat in his office awaiting the Williams girl to be brought to him. He had plans on how to get even with the twit. He would up her dosage by three, he mused. See her become a physical mess before he sent her mind reeling over the brink into oblivion. He expected to hear from his operatives in the field that the boy was in his hands as well. With the child he knew he could keep the girl in line. He found in the last few weeks he'd developed an intense dislike for the girl, and even her appealing attractiveness would not deter him from seeing her brought down and committed to an asylum.

The sounds of screaming sirens drew his attention away from his wicked thoughts of how he was going to enjoy the girl's downfall. Looking out the window he saw a dozen vehicles enter the long drive going toward the dormitory. There were ambulances and several local squad cars, cursing he moved away from the window. He moved out of his office as the secretary answered the phone.

"Doctor Daniels," she said urgently. "There's trouble in one of the girl's dorms."

He was already moving swiftly down the hall and heading toward the exit of his office building. He was cursing as he saw several of his best orderlies being carted into ambulances. Two of them looked deathly white, and he cursed under his breath. When he arrived in the hall that he knew the Williams girl was in he found the Head Mistress wringing her hands as the officers asked questions. He looked at the doorway covered in blood and saw the girl leaning on the frame with a cold look in her eyes. It reminded him of the eyes of a shark, lifeless.

"See here," Daniels bellowed, "What is going on here?"

The officer in change looked at him with a questioning glare. "Who are you?"

"I'm Doctor Dylan Daniels, I'm in charge of the clinic attached to this school…."He addressed the man looking down his nose. "I don't recall calling for police assistance."

The officer, unimpressed, pointed to Sarah's doorway. "Did you authorize the attack on that young woman?"

"Attack?" Daniels frowned, "I'm afraid you've been misinformed, there has been no attack…"

"Oh is it usual to have orderlies go into students rooms with gas masks and restrains?" The man asked sarcastically, flipping his note book. "Miss Williams was awakened by some foul order that made her ill and then the sounds of someone trying to break into her room…" He pointed to the door that was now off its hinge. "She gave warning to the intruder that she was armed and would defend herself."

Daniels glared at the girl, "I doubt that very much…."

"There's a witness," the investigating officer pointed to the monitor, "and a tape." He smiled. "You were saying Doc?"

Daniels and Browning exchanged guilty looks as the officer led them both down the hall. Lilith and Bryn both made their way into the hall. Seeing Sarah was safe they both took a long breath. Marge was standing beside Sarah like a protective pit bull.

The investigator returned to where the girl stood. "What did you use?" He asked with a sarcastic smirk.

"Field hockey stick," Sarah handed him the battered and broken remains. She looked at Marge. "Must have been one you missed when you moved out… I'll have my dad replace it."

Marge shook her head, "Sarah, that's not mine… I keep my equipment down at the lockers."

Sarah snickered, "Well I guess it was heaven sent." She looked at the officer. "My father is a lawyer, and I'm sure he's going to want to press charges stating with those two." She pointed to Daniels and Browning. "I would suggest you call the board of regents for the school so these two right away." She was respectful to the officer. She gave her father's name and number to the officer.

He looked at the room, "I'm afraid we are going to have to tape this off… do you have somewhere you can sleep for the rest of this night?"

Marge nodded, "Sarah can sleep in my room,"

"Or mine," a dozen other's called out.

"Little goblins," muttered Daniels under his breath toward Browning, as he watched the floor of girls offer sleeping space to the girl who refused any human touch. "And she's their bloody Queen."

Browning looked at him, slowly turning to look at the girl who was walking toward the room of the one the others called "Large" Marge. "How could she have escaped?"

Lilith watched Sarah go into Marge's room, and knew she would be safe from harm as long as Marge was watching over her. "One day," she said in a voice filled with more longing than she'd ever known; "I will be at your side."

Bryn looked at her; "Did you say something Lilith?" she asked distractedly.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9. It's about Power**

Sarah pulled her suitcase out of her father's car's trunk and mused at how much had changed. Daniels and Browning were both gone, and the board of regents had requested Talbot to return in charge of the school. A new research team headed by a Doctor Danvers; who seemed to know her father already, was in charge at the clinic and they seemed to be making progress with most of the girls. Gone was the prison feeling that had been so prevalent during the reign of Daniels and Browning's terror. Girls waved happily at each other upon arrival. Things had taken a turn for the better after Daniels and Browning had left. She had turned seventeen in New York City on a visit to her mother, who like her father and Karen and Toby remained the only beings she seemed to be able to withstand touching her. Even her mother's off and on again beau Jeremy gave her the willies when he stood too close, a fact that had not gone unnoticed by Jeremy. He'd a long relationship with Sarah and felt awkward and embarrassed that the gentle days of teasing the girl were gone forever.

Sarah saw Lilith and Bryn coming her way; she fought the urge to stiffen as they moved in on her. Lilith sensed the stiffening and stepped back a pace. "Hey," she greeted her friends warmly. "How are you two?" She saw her father smile at the pair and she tried to relax.

"Fantastic," Bryn said happily. "I got all the courses I requested, including the two over at the university. Did you get them as well?" She seemed genuinely happy that Sarah did indeed get the courses she'd wanted.

Lilith looked conspiratorially at her. "Wait until you see Marge," she grinned like a loon.

Bryn nodded wildly, "Sarah you're not going to believe it."

"Good God, what did she do?" Sarah asked worried about the girl who had seemed so lost the last year.

"Well, you've got no one to blame but yourself," Lilith teased easily as she pointed to someone coming across the quad. "There she is now." Sarah gasped and she added. "Feeling a bit like Doctor Frankenstein?"

Coming across the lawns of the quad, striding with confidence was a tall blond girl with a soft smile. "Sarah, welcome back."

"Marge," Sarah blinked not believing her eyes… the caterpillar had turned into a butterfly. Gone was the severe pulled back long hair braided across her head making her look like something out of a Viking opera; now her now hair was cut in a style that was modern and very becoming to her pretty face. Her face had light touches of makeup, and she looked like a different girl all together. "What did you do?"

Shyly the tall girl preened. "I took your advice… I went to one of those make over things at the local mall. What do you think, really?"

"I'm floored," Sarah gasped. "You're gorgeous!"

Robert cleared his throat to remind his daughter he was still there. "Let's get the stuff to your room before you girls start the reunion."

Sarah grabbed a case. "Let's have dinner in the main hall…tell the others I'm back," she called to her friends. Lilith watched her go wistfully before turning with Bryn and Marge to gather Sarah's crew. "See Dad," Sarah said lugging the case up the stairs. "I told you I'll be fine."

"I know that things _**here**_ are better," he argued as he followed her past the monitor who was a new face also. "But _**you're**_ not." He dropped her case in the new room she'd been assigned in the new dorm building that was for senior classmen at the school. "Oh my, this is nice." He commented. "And what a view," he said looking out her large window.

Sarah looked at him, "You're just jealous that you're not surrounded by a bevy of beauties like this school boasts." She teased indelicately, she found herself thinking of him less and less as her father and more and more as an intellectual equal.

"One beauty at a time is my speed," he replied smartly. "Your mother was a handful and you know how well I handled that….Karen; well … she's great but…" He shrugged.

Sarah pouted; "What am I chopped liver?"

Robert blushed slightly as he did so often these days when speaking to his nearly grown up daughter. "You're something else." He said carefully.

Sarah looked at him with slightly lowered lids, "I make you nervous, don't I?"

"Yeah, you could say that," he admitted freely. "You make me very nervous, Sarah… for Gods sake…you're my daughter, and we sometimes talk like we're not related at all."

She looked at him, and her thoughts were unfathomable. "Sometimes… I wish there was just one other person I could touch… hold and…." She turned her back on him. "Don't worry Dad, I remember who you are."

Robert found himself biting his tongue yet again. He'd been feeling this growing gap between them since she'd left to spend time in New York City. "Sarah," He pleaded with her.

Sarah looked at him questioningly. "Did I ever tell you thank you?" She shifted gears as swiftly as she could. "Hey you'd better get back on the road… I've got to unpack and get my dinner." She pushed him toward the door. "No long goodbyes, remember?" He gave her a hug and quickly ended it. She waved to him from her dorm window as he got into his car.

Finishing her unpacking at record speed, Sarah then pulled on the school blazer and moved swiftly down the stairs to join her friends and followers on the quad. There on the beautifully manicured lawn was more than a dozen girls waiting for her. Each girl greeting her excitedly and gathering close without touching the girl in the center of their company; Sarah listened to each one tell of their adventures over the summer as if it were the most important thing she had to do.

Danvers watched from his office window, he'd come out of seclusion to step in when both Daniels and Browning had been removed. Talbot was seated in this office having a relaxing cup of tea with the Director of the clinic. Danvers tapped on the window pane lightly. "That Williams girl is quite the little organizer."

"She's got a talent for getting people to do what she wants them to," Talbot agreed. "She just has something about her."

Still watching the group on the lawn the Doctor mused. "Look at who is gathered to her though; it's the girls who are the most difficult cases. Yet to look at them now, surrounding her like this, you'd think these were your run of the mill teenagers." Turning from the window he looked at his counterpart. "She's gotten farther with some of them than we have."

"She understands their problems," offered Talbot wolfishly. "She sees things from their perspective."

Danvers took a seat at his desk, raising his own tea cup to his lips. "She should, her own issues are not dissimilar from theirs." He found her file at the top of the pile on his desk and skimmed over a few points. "Is she really taking part in the college credit courses?"

Talbot nodded enthusiastically. "She had some of the highest testing scores…" He placed his cup on the desk. "It's just two courses for now, and she's really beyond the course we offer…I think being off campus and going over to the college for one day a week will do her good." He smirked. "After all it's been months since she took a hockey stick to anyone." Both men chuckled.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Jareth had guests; some welcomed some not so much. In the nine months since his declaration at the High King's court, he'd been forced to entertain far more than he'd intended to. This group today was a matter of trade accords. He entered the Great Hall for the audience with the members of the trade partners accompanied by his Harpy guards. Devon was already in the hall awaiting him. Taking his seat he expectantly held out his hand for the scroll that Devon was holding. "What's the first item of business today?"

Devon pointed to a group of Elves, "I believe the mineral union from the northern boarders is up first."

"Their speaker's name?"

"Alwyn Goldendoor," Devon whispered carefully, then motioned the group of tall elves forward.

"Elder Goldendoor," Jareth addressed him carefully, being respectful but not fawning. "I don't believe I've had the pleasure of your acquaintance before," The Goblin King looked at the tall elder who didn't look happy.

"I wish I could say this audience was over a pleasantry, Sire;" Apologized the tall handsome featured elf that was at the head of the miners union. His eyes were almost black they were so dark, and his face was like alabaster. He was beautiful to look at, but his expression was not happy. "I fear I come with bad news, Sire." He moved forward with a scroll, handed it to Devon and then stood back quietly.

While Devon unrolled the scroll movement toward the back of the groups assembled drew Jareth's attention. Quickly he diverted his attentions back to the union and the scroll that was now being handed to him by Devon. "Thank you my Lord Baron." He said then whispered. "She's back again."

Devon nodded, "I see." He shrugged. "You want me to have her thrown out?"

"No, we'll hear her out, again." Jareth waved the Baron back and began to read the scroll. "Goldendoor," he addressed the elder. "How long have your shipments gone though the Talagon lands?"

"Nearly six centuries Sire," the elder sighed. "This is the first time we've been refused passage."

Jareth nodded, "Devon, get me the map, I think I've a solution to this problem and another at the same time." Devon sent for the map, while Jareth looked up at the Elf Elder. "You were right to come to me, Goldendoor." He commended the union leader. "Thank you for being so considerate and conscientious."

Goldendoor's shoulders seemed a bit hunched over, a bit defeated. "I fear it is too little, Sire."

Understanding the man's feelings and experience, Jareth still reached out a glimmer of hope. "We shall see." Devon set the map up for the King to study. "I thought so, come forward Goldendoor." As the union leader approached the King pointed to a narrow strip of land between Talagon's holding and the lands of a lower Fae Lord Grphiff. It was a strip of land belonging to a group of dwarfs of the Snowdon clan. "The Snowdon's have been complaining about the lack of material that comes through their corridor. They have been cut off from other suppliers by Talagon, as well."

Goldendoor frowned. "We don't have a trade treaty with them."

"Ah," said the Goblin King slyly. "But I have and one with your union as well… I can be the go between."

Devon was ready with a scroll in hand, "Sire."

"Thank you," he looked over the materials needed by the Snowdon clan. "They would take raw material from you, and export it as well as products they make."

Goldendoor nodded, "I can see that would be acceptable to all, Sire."

"Devon will direct you to where you need to sign a new accord, and we'll get things moving." Jareth handed the scroll to Goldendoor and bid him well.

She watched from the back of the line, impressed with how smoothly this young King was able to keep things running; and in the face of problems with the fool Talagon. Tanya felt a tingle go through her as she watched the man with the petitioners. This was her fifth journey here to the Goblin Kingdom on business for her father and yet the King had not invited her to so much as tea. She would take the reigns this time, she promised herself. This time she would not leave this court without an invitation to come back for a personal visit. As her time to speak to the King drew near she felt energized and thrilled, and knew it would put color into her pale cheeks. She stepped forward and handed her scroll to Devon before curtseying to the King.

"Lady Tanya," He murmured. "How nice to see you, yet again."

She noted the hint of sarcasm but chose to ignore it and turn it around. "Kind of you to allow me to come again with our… tribulations Sire." She made a cute little pout and said. "We don't mean to trouble you…"

"Not at all," he said aloud but to himself he thought 'in a pigs eye'. Without turning he held his hand out for the scroll and opened it to read the latest complaints from her father. "I see." He looked up at her tossed the scroll into a pile of discards and said. "No."

She blinked, "I beg your pardon?" Her voice echoed the surprise in her voice.

"I said no, forget it, no way…Next!" he waved her on.

Devon fought the urge to snicker as the Fae girl moved on in shock. She turned and moved back. "Why not? The request is not unreasonable."

Jareth smiled a wickedly indulgent smile. "If you really want to know, it's because I don't need to be bribed with a bit of skirt." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. "I would suggest your father find his balls, put them back on and come see me himself instead of sending his leggy wench of a daughter to do his dirty work for him. Good day."

Tanya gulped back the words that were springing to her lips from her mind. She dipped quickly, turned and exited with what grace she could muster.

Under his breath Devon whispered as he handed the next scroll to his cousin. "Another one bites the dust."

"Hardly," was the sardonic reply from the King. "That one is plotting to be Queen. We've hardly heard the last from her… she'll be back…" He opened the scroll and read. "This is not about me…it's about power."

Tanya's lower lip trembled with anger and outrage. How dare he speak to her that way before the other petitioners? How dare he call her a leggy wench? How dare he refuse her father's request? She was seething with resentment and rage when she reached her carriage. "Take me home," she ordered her coachman. "Father will know how to deal with _**him**_."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Oberon's court was not holding an audience, but many courtiers were gathered in the palace hoping to have a word with the High King. Life in the Avalonian court was a pageantry of pleasantries and manipulations. Tanya arrived on her father's arm; Duke Winderspire's face bespoke the rage that was seething in his heart. He stormed past the Fae milling about, his daughter in tow.

Tatiana looked up from the game board that was set between herself and the High King. "Darling," her voice was a little breathless and very quiet. "Were you expecting Winderspire?"

Oberon looked toward the direction his wife indicated and heaved a heavy sigh. "No, and he looks upset." He moved the game piece and murmured; "Your move, dear."

The High Queen had already locked on her most serene look, and as the Duke approached she gazed at him in mild and pleasant surprise. "Winderspire, how lovely to see you…"

The Duke bowed deeply to the Queen took her hand and fawned over it exaggeratedly. "My Queen, it is always a pleasure to see you…." He turned to the High King and gave him a curt bow. "My King I come with a grievance."

Draping an arm over the back of his chair, Oberon looked at the Duke with questioning eyes. "Really? What ever could be wrong?"

"You boy King has insulted my daughter, Tanya…" He motioned toward the girl who pouted looking very put out. "I will not tolerate it, Sire."

Exchanging knowing glances, the King and Queen motioned the attendants that were gathered near them to be off. The Queen set her face to being passive, as her husband stood up. "You say some one had offended your daughter? How and when?"

The Duke clasped hands behind his back, thinking he'd the upper hand and was about to bring down someone he considered beneath him. "I sent my daughter as an emissary to the Goblin King, as I have done before… and he insulted her before the rest of his petitioners. He made a lewd suggestion, and offered insult to me as well as denying my humble request."

"Ah I see," Oberon crossed his arms giving himself the appearance of one who was in control. "You've a problem with the Goblin King… I had wondered who it was you were referring to as '_**Boy King'**_, and although King Jareth is young, he's not really a boy, now is he?" Oberon watched the chinks in Winderspire's armor begin to crack.

"He insulted my daughter!" The Duke fumed.

"What exactly did he say?" Oberon asked, wondering what could have sent the irritated Duke rushing to Avalon.

"He refused a simple request, and when asked why he said," the Duke moved closer and spoke to the High King in a low whisper then moved back.

"Ah," Oberon tapped his long noble nose with his index finger before saying quietly to the man, "I suggest you find those balls and put them on." When the Duke gasped the High King addressed him curtly. "See here, Windy… I grow tired of your constant demands, I'm sure the Goblin King has also grown tired of such nitpicking…" He looked over at the girl. "If your daughter was insulted then it was more your fault than that of the Goblin King's. Now be so good as to go away." Oberon took his seat again and waved the pair off. He watched as they departed trying to keep a disinterested expression on his features. He did grant himself one exemption, a long serious look at the young lady in question. Covering his lower face he began to snicker wickedly.

Once she was sure they were along again, the Queen asked; "What's so funny?"

"Jareth called Tanya a leggy wench." He moved his game piece again. "Told her to tell her father to find his balls and put them back on and come see him himself."

The Queen gave in to the giggles, "Oh that's wicked." She moved a piece on the board.

"That's Jareth," the King sighed. "I fear we've not heard the last of this."

Long fingers closed in on those of the High King, "I've heard from some of my attendants that the mother of that girl has aspirations…"

Oberon understood her qualms, "I assure you my dear, that girl will never wear the Goblin Queen's crown."

"They are crafty," she warned coolly. "Perhaps you should warn our…boy King."

"Boy King," scoffed the High King as he moved yet another piece on the board. He looked over at his wife, "I'll send word to Jareth that I'd like a private audience… warning him may not be a bad idea."

She patted his fingers and smiled softly. "This isn't about Jareth you know, it's about Power."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Of the sixty girls that had closed out the school year as juniors, only forty had returned as seniors. Of those only fifteen had opted to take the extra classes over at the university. Talbot had arranged for a bus to pick them up on Friday's after lunch so they could be driven over to the other campus and then returned when the classes were finished.

As Sarah stepped off the bus at the Universities campus, she felt a bit like a fish out of water. Although the campus at St. Ambrose was good sized, it was not nearly as large as this campus and there were only girls attending St. Ambrose. Here there were both male and female students, and none but the girls from St. Ambrose were in a uniform.

Lilith quickly removed her blazer, tied it around her waist and began to open buttons on her blouse and then roll her knee socks down to her ankles. She looked at Sarah, motioning her to do the same. Bryn rolled her eyes but took off her blazer. "Come on," she said with a playful urgency. "We don't want to scare off any of the boys."

Sarah frowned. "I'm here to take classes," she reminded the dark haired girl who was looking about the campus excitedly. "I'm not here looking for stud muffins."

"I am," Lilith bragged as she looked at the map that was to get her to the right building for her class. "I'll meet you at the student union when class is over!" she dashed off.

Bryn, who was taking the same classes as Sarah sighed. "Don't be too hard on her, Sarah. She can't help herself."

"I'm not trying to be harsh," Sarah muttered a bit miffed.

"I know." Bryn shrugged. "Lilith's last beau dumped her when she got sent to St. Ambrose, and over the summer her folks had her on a really short leash."

Sarah took the explanation and stored the information. "What about you Bryn?" Sarah questioned softly her companion. "Are you looking to make a love connection here?"

Bryn giggled at the comment, "No," she shook her head emphatically. "I'm more interested in getting stated on a degree… see I don't really want to depend on the kindness of others especially a man…" her words hardened and her tone became abrasive.

Sarah looked at her, "Daniels hurt you, didn't he?" It was instinctive, but she could not stop herself once the thought had lodged. "That bastard hurt you… does Lilith know?"

Bryn's mossy green eyes looked into Sarah's emerald green eyes. "No, and you're not to tell her." The girl with long red hair was firm. "I don't know how you know, but I'm not going to deny it."

"That sick bastard," Darkness flashed on the girls face. "I wish we could get even."

Bryn moved back a step, "Sarah, be careful what you wish for…." She knew the other cringed when touched, but she had no choice. She yanked Sarah back and motioned toward the arch they had been approaching. "Never demand something from the universe unless you are really serious about accepting the responsibility for it. See those symbols? Asking for or demanding or even just wishing for something under them is…" She saw Sarah's face change and she paused. "You know about magic, don't you?"

"Some…" Sarah admitted. "It's all foggy… messed up and mixed up in my head… but yes… I know some…"

"I thought so," Bryn confessed feeling like a weight was being lifted. "Lilith and I have been practicing for over a year…we've been dying to ask you to join us."

"Practicing?" Sarah seemed distracted then suddenly focused. "Bryn, let's talk about this after class… we're going to be late." She looked up at the arch as they passed through it. "I want to know… but later…"

Bryn and Sarah exited the building they had been in for the two classes Over her shoulder Sarah looked up to the arch and the symbol that was in the center of the arch, a ring of oak leaves with an eye in the opening in the center. "What is that?"

"It's a symbol of the Oak King," Bryn related. "Dagda, the Celtic earth God, the lord of the Greenwood."

"Dagda," Sarah repeated quietly as they walked away from the building. Sarah pointed to another symbol over another archway; "And that one?"

"That's a Wheat ring; it's the symbol of Cerridwin the Celtic Goddess of the harvest…" She smiled softly. "That's my Goddess."

"Your Goddess?" Sarah questioned as she awakened to the possibilities. "I suppose she's all goodness and light,"

"Hardly," Bryn scoffed. "Celtic Gods and Goddesses are warriors."

Sarah spotted another symbol in a doors archway. "That one, that thing that looks like a ring of Holly…"

"That's the symbol of the Holly King, the other aspect of the Oak King..." Bryn followed the excited Sarah.

Sarah moved quickly to an arch in the center of the quad, there was no building, just the arch. The three symbols were joined in an intertwined manner. "What's that?"

"Power portal," Bryn said studying the arches sweep up ward. "The three are joined, and who ever enterers the portal and knows how to demand power can receive it." As Sarah took a step forward Bryn put out her hand. "NO, you're not ready … not yet."

Sarah looked at her, "I am."

"No, you need to learn…prepare and dedicate yourself, but by Samhain you'll be ready." Bryn promised. "Let's find Lilith, she'll want to know."

Know, what?" Sarah asked as she turned from the arch.

Bryn seemed quietly in charge. "Know that you're ready to take the next step… to join us in a circle. She said we should meet at the student union, that's over by the parking lot our bus will be in." She pointed toward the east, and turned to walk.

They were not surprised to see Lilith, but Sarah was a bit surprised to find her sitting in the lap of a gruff looking bearded youth in a from fitting leather outfit. She envied Lilith the ability to enjoy the company and touch of the swarthy youth. His hands moved over Lilith's bottom as he whispered something suggestive in her ear, and her eyes closed in amusement as she delighted in his suggestions. She waved at the pair as they approached. "Sarah, Bryn come meet Bear," she squirmed on his lap and he chuckled darkly; "My new boyfriend." She announced.

Sarah took a seat opposite them, "Hello, Bear."

The man with thick dark waves of hair cut in a roguish style smiled at both the new girls joining them. "Hello," he kept his hands on the girl squirming on his lap. His dark Aegean blue eyes gave his heritage as a Greek away quickly. "Sit still," he warned playfully. "Or your friends will be shocked." He slipped his hand up her ribs to cup her breast.

Bryn cleared her throat and looked away discreetly. Sarah didn't bother. "You take classes here?" She asked sounding a bit flat.

"Yep," he said looking at her with an arrogance that was unmistakable.

"He's in my Greek histories class." Lilith volunteered.

The young man kept moving his hand over the girl knowing just where and how to touch her. "So you two go to that fancy reform school as well?" He asked in a voice that clearly was not judging.

Sarah nodded, and said quietly. "I have anger management issues."

Pausing in his manhandling of the Greek girl, he slowly smiled. "You're the girl who beat the shit out of the goons… aren't you?" He didn't wait for denial or admission. "I was one of the ambulance drivers that night… man you wailed on them something beautiful, princess."

Sarah snickered. "That I did."

He extended his free hand out to her, and murmured. "Pax."

Lilith sat upright in his grip, "Bear, no, Sarah doesn't like to be touched." She warned softly. "It's no insult…it's…"

"Its fine," he said pulling his hand back. "Just know that my hand had been offered."

Liking this brash young man, Sarah leaned forward on the table and smiled; "And accepted."

Bear smiled wider, "I think we're going to have a hell of a good time, girls." He nuzzled Lilith again. "I've got some pals that I think you babes would love."

Sarah was the one who noticed the bus driver looking for them; "Time to get back to the salt minds."

Bear gave Lilith a long lingering deep kiss. "Next time, hot pants." He promised something unspoken.

"God yes," she answered darkly.

Bryn and Sarah bid him good bye and moved toward the bus without waiting for Lilith. As the three boarded the bus and took their assigned seats everyone was exchanging information on how the classes had gone. Bryn turned to the aroused Lilith and whispered. "Sarah's in."

Lilith leaned toward the girl sitting on the other side of Bryn. "Really? That's great! We can start training you right away."

"Am I a performing dog or pony?" Sarah teased lightly.

Lilith settled down and looked at her, "Sarah about what happened just now… it doesn't mean anything…it's just… animal magnetism. If I had to choose between you and Bear, I'd choose you…."

"That may not be a wise choice," Sarah warned trying not to judge. "I love you for saying it, but I do understand the attraction in a stud like Bear. I don't blame you for wanting to be… held and touched… loved…"

"It's not love Sarah," Lilith said defensively. "Its substitution, I'd much rather…" She smiled wistfully but let the thought drop. "What peaked your interest in joining the circle?" she asked changing the subject."

"Power," Sarah stated flatly. "It's about power… and I want it."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Jareth had felt a disturbance, something he could not name, as he entered his chamber late after the dinner he'd attended in the home of one of his Kingdom's Fae residence. He was surprised to find the orb on the nightstand glowing and swirling with color and movement. He removed his cloak, letting it fall to the floor as he moved toward it. One gloved had reached out to grasp the crystal; he raised it up and murmured softly. "I didn't switch you on," he gazed into the foggy mists and noticed little changes.

Smirking to himself he lay on the bed, and raised the orb to gaze deeply into its depths. "Give me one of her dreams…" he commanded darkly. "Something naughty."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Several weeks had past, and the three gathered in the privacy of Sarah's room as it had the most room. With white chalk Lilith drew an outline of a circle, with blue she drew the five pointed star, each of the points reaching the circle's outline. In each of the points she drew another symbol. "It goes clockwise," Lilith said reverently. "Spirit, is the top point, followed by water, then fire, and earth and lastly air." She stood up.

Bryn lit four candles in little votive holders, one green, one yellow, one red and one blue. Lastly she put a white candle in the center. "East is yellow, and that goes with air. Red is fire and that goes south, blue is water, and that's west, and the green is earth and north….The white candle is spirit." She looked at Lilith, and picked up a little stick of tightly wrapped leaves tied with a dark cord. "This is sage, and we will cleanse each other with its smoke." She moved the smoldering object about Lilith, passed it to her and let her do the same to her. They both held it as they passed it about Sarah. Bryn then picked up a small bowl with water, and she sprinkled some on Lilith with her hand. Lilith then repeated the motion and both sprinkled water at Sarah.

Lilith turned to Bryn, "How do you enter the circle?"

"With perfect love and perfect trust," Bryn replied. She then asked Lilith, "How do you enter the circle?"

"With perfect love and perfect trust," she smiled as they both turned and asked the same question of Sarah.

"With perfect love and perfect trust," Sarah nodded.

"Sarah you'll be spirit, and Bryn is fire, and I'm earth." Lilith said softly. "Once we've entered the circle, no may leave until the ceremony is finished," she warned when the others nodded, she took a deep breath. "Then let us cast our first circle." She took her place in the point marked Earth. Bryn stepped into Fire, and held out her hands in the same fashion that Lilith's were held. Sarah lightly stepped into Spirit, holding her hands out as well. Lilith nodded and the three began the chant.

"We call upon the ancient power, Guardians of the four quarter towers. Be with us this night and give to us your power. As it is above so be it below. So mote it is."

A gust of wind blew open the window, yet the candles remain lit. Lilith looked more than pleased. "We three call upon the Triple Goddess this holy Mabon Night, bless us and accept us."

Bryn invoked the names of the Goddess and finished with "Bless us and accept us."

Sarah lit the incense that was made for this night's work of anointing and dedicating. "We call upon the maid, the mother and the crone to guide us. Bless us and accept us." The little homemade cone of cinnamon and cloves filled the air with its pungent but pleasant odor. She then nodded to Lilith who was acting as the high priestess for the little group.

Lilith picked up a letter opener that had been sharpened to a fine tip and pricked her finger. She let the blood drop into a little cup. "I give my life's blood as sacrifice to thee oh Great Goddess." She passed the blade and cup to Bryn who after repeating the act passed them on to Sarah.

"I give my life's blood as sacrifice to thee… OH Great mother… Bless us and accept us." Sarah invoked. Another great gust of wind came through the window.

Each then dropped the robe she'd been standing in, standing Naked in the darkness before each other as equals and before the Goddess as vessels. "Bless us and accept us." They repeated once more.

Bryn looked up, "I am fire, I am the south, and I shall take the name Firebird as my circle name and the wolf as my totem. I am the Celtic daughter of Cerridwin, Blessed be."

Lilith looked up and accepted her sisters in circle. "I am Earth and I am the north… I take the name Tara as my circle name and the tiger as my totem; I am the Greek daughter of Persephone, Blessed Be."

Sarah gave it thought, and looked up. "I am Spirit, and I am all abounding. I take the name Pandora as my circle name. I am the dreamless one...Daughter of Danu, Blessed be." Her voice reverberated as she spoke.

Lilith closed her eyes, "As it was,"

"As it is," said Bryn.

"AS it shall be!" Sarah said in a voice that filled the room with electricity.

"So mote it be," the said together. And placing their hands so the palms faced each other the closed the circle. "We call upon the ancient power, Guardians of the four quarter towers. Be with us this night and give to us your power. As it is above so be it below. So mote it is. We close now our circle and thank you for your gifts of enlightenment." A gust of wind came through the room and the candles went out.

Sarah moved to the wall and flipped the switch that would light the room up once more. She picked up her robe and looked at Lilith. "I could get use to that…"

"What, casting a circle?"

"No," Sarah said softly; "To the rush of power."

Lilith opened a bottle of apple cider, and poured into three wooden goblets. "How long have you been dreamless?" she asked handing the goblet to Sarah who was now sitting on the floor within the still vibrating circle.

"Since the night I wished my little brother away to the Goblins…." Sarah said almost trancelike sipping from the goblet.

Both Bryn and Lilith looked at each other, shock registering in eyes and face. Lilith sat down Hindi styled on the point of Earth. "But Sarah, I've seen your brother in pictures you have from home…" She pointed to a recent shot of Sarah with the little boy in the family's back yard. "If you'd wished him away…"

"I won him back," she sighed deeply closing her eyes on the rush of memory of that night.

Bryn shook her head, "Sarah, that's not possible…"

Lilith drank from her goblet and giggled. "I can just see you besting the Goblins… oh that must have been rich!"

Bryn grabbed the Greek girl by the arm. "Not the Goblins, she bested someone higher… they don't have the power or right to give someone back."

Lilith pulled her arm free and looked at the entranced Sarah. "Who'd you beat?"

Sarah's eyes opened, they looked like a kaleidoscope of color; "The Goblin King."

Bryn moaned and began to curse under her breath, she moved forward on her knees. "Sarah, look at me…" when the green eyes focused she said. "What happened that night, can you tell me?"

"I didn't know it would actually work," Sarah began to retell the tale of the night of the bid storm. Skimming over portions hitting what she felt were the important issues. "And I found Toby in his bed…"

"Did you ever tell anyone this?" Bryn asked in desperation.

"I'm already labeled a trouble maker; you want them to call me nuts as well?" Sarah snapped harshly. "Besides after my friends came to celebrate my victory it was all over… and until now… I'd forgotten most of it… funny right now it seems fresh as when it happened."

Lilith looked at Bryn, her face twisted in apprehension. "This is bad?"

"Worse than bad…" Bryn retorted in a biting tone. "She was not supposed to remember… that's the way it works…"

"The way what works?" Lilith asked knowing that her friend was more into stories and legends and folk history.

"I told you when she arrived there was something powerful and magical about her," Bryn stood up looking down at Sarah sitting in Spirit. "It's the circle… it's effected whatever spell was cast on her."

"Then her dreams will return?"

Bryn shook her head, "No," moving closer to Sarah again she said quietly. "Think… when the creatures you'd befriended left you… and you went to sleep… did you dream?"

"Yes," her voice was soft and awed, "I dreamed someone came to me… kissed me ever so softly… and then… said something…" A sound came from the back of her throat. "He touched me with a crystal orb…" anger, panic and fear collided in the green eyes. "That son of a bitch took my dreams…. I remember now… said he'd live with regret and my dreams…."

"A crystal orb," Bryn fell back. "That bastard."

"What? " Lilith demanded.

"Sarah's dreams were … harvested by a Fae as the price tag for her winning back her brother… nothing is free… and Sarah paid with her dreams…past, present and future."

"That's horrible." Lilith seethed. "It's inhuman!"

"The Goblin King is not human, nor is he a Goblin… he's a royal Fae." Bryn crawled over to the night stand to retrieve a book she'd only that day leant to Sarah. "It's one of the oldest Celtic stories." She handed the book to Lilith after she'd opened it to the correct passage. "If what I know is true, she shouldn't even be alive."

"He meant to kill her?" Lilith gasped at the thought.

"No," Sarah said now standing and pacing. "He meant to drive me insane first… and let me die alone, unable to be touched… I don't think his spell worked right though. My parents can touch me and so can Toby."

"Blood line," Bryn hazarded a guess. "He had not counted on that when he harvested the dreams and sealed them away. They don't think of everything… to vain and confident… it's been their undoing before."

"That arrogant son of a bitch!" Sarah fumed. "Oh if he thinks he's getting away with this… I didn't run his fucking Labyrinth just so he could turn around and steal my dreams!" She paused, thinking quickly. "Wait, I'd forgotten all this, what's to prevent me from forgetting again?"

Bryn pointed to the circle. "You're part of a circle, it's got power, and you're connected to us."

"We won't forget." Lilith promised turning to open a box she'd brought into the room with her. In the box were three silver pendants on fine silver chains, pentagrams like the one on the floor in a circle. "I had these made for us, and since they were in the room when we cast the circle they are now consecrated." She dangled one over Sarah's hand. "I would never cause you pain." She murmured lovingly.

"I know that," Sarah said thinking she understood the girl's intentions. She placed the necklace on and let the pentagram in the circle dangle between her breasts.

Bryn frowned slightly, reading something more in the way Lilith doted on Sarah. Once more she held back, and worried if she should say anything to either.

Sarah began to pace again. "I want more than my memory back…"

"Your dreams?" asked Lilith softly.

"That goes without saying…" Sarah fumed. "I want more. I want revenge…" She moved about the circle as she spoke. "I want the power to take revenge."

Bryn gasped. "No you don't."

"Yes she does," Lilith said in delighted excitement. "But Sarah… be warned, once you take that step, you can never look back." She poured more cider, one for each of them.

"I don't care…" Sarah said raising her goblet. "It's about power… and I want it!"

"To Power," Lilith simpered.

"Oh dear," Bryn cringed. "To power;" The three drank to the dregs.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Jareth panted and moaned as the dream he'd allowed himself to visit took a decidedly adult turn. The girl was pleasing him as no Fae woman had ever offered. He experienced the release, as the green eyed dream creature licked her lips moving back, looking up at him with wicked delight in her not so innocent eyes.

Jareth sat up in his bed, "Where the hell did that come from?" he hoisted the orb upward and glared. "Where the hell does an innocent get dreams like that?" Glaring at the orb he set it aside, vowing not to touch it again.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Devon found Jareth pacing the old Goblin Throne room, Goblins watching quietly as their King fumed. They all kept back fearfully, but Devon either didn't have the same sense or he was not aware of the dangers. "Jareth?"

The King shot him a harsh glare. "Not now."

Devon looked at one of the Harpies. "How long has he been like this?"

Della crossed her arms, "Since he exited his bedchamber."

Moving back, Devon frowned. "He was fine when I left him last evening after the Marbon feast."

"Well he's not fine now," the Harpy groused. "And I don't think this has to do with the feast…He…smells… different."

Devon looked at the Harpy. "In what manner?"

"Like he's been with a woman." The other Harpy sighed.

Looking toward one of the Goblins he asked without words, one by one they shook their heads in the negative. Devon looked at the Harpies, "I don't see how, he's not even gone whoring with me the last few times."

"I know what I know." Declared the Harpy; "He's been satisfied."

Devon watched his cousin pace. "He does not look satisfied now."

Jareth stopped pacing to roar, "I will not be spoken of as if I'm not in the room!" The roar had felt good, and his tensions receded.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Nearly two months had passed, Sarah looked at the archway and at each of the girls she'd taken as sister. "Once we do this…" Bryn had warned. "There's no going back."

Sarah looked at the symbol and walked to the arch with Bryn on one side, Lilith on the other. "I claim the power!" Each said as they entered the arch.

Bear was leaning on a tree watching. "God help whoever pissed them off." He said to a comrade standing with him; "Especially that little dark haired green eyed witch."

Snake, his friend nodded. "Yeah, she's a force."

Bear snickered. "She's the one with power," he pointed to the dark campus. "She's the one who figured out how to get off campus and get here without setting off every alarm in the state. You'd think there'd been more people out on a Sunday night, wouldn't you?"

Snake shrugged, "I just want them to get done so we can get them back before anyone notices."

"They entered the arch at the stroke of Midnight, and it's now the start of the witches feast." Bear watched the girls emerge from the arch. "It's done, go get the car stated." He waited for the girls in the long robes. "You owe me," he said to Lilith pointedly. "I will collect."

"Not a problem," she promised.

He looked at Sarah. "I hope you found what you wanted, and that it was worth the risks."

Sarah walked with them back to Snake's car. "I got just what I wanted…it's about Power, Bear... Who has it, who can hold it, and who can claim it."

Bear held the door open for them, blocking Sarah before she could enter. "Be careful what you wish for little girl, what's said is said…they say… and the Gods…play nasty jokes."

Sarah tasted something foul in her throat, but swallowed it back. "Don't worry Bear, I know what I'm doing."

He closed the door and grinned; "Famous last words." He slid into the front seat, and gave Snake the go ahead to leave the university parking lot and head back to St. Ambrose. He turned to look at the three little witches sitting in the back seat. His eyes met with Lilith's, a debt was a debt, and he always collected his. He looked at the girl with red hair, and understood her worry and wished he could tell her it would all be fine, but he knew better. Lastly he looked at Sarah, knowing no good would come of this nights work. That thought somehow amused him and he turned back to look out the front window of the car. "I've a feeling this is the beginning of a very interesting relationship ladies."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10. Winds of change**

The year was speeding by, and soon it was the week before graduation. The girls of the senior class were waiting for the physical Education teacher to enter the gym and they were as restless as Indian's before a raid on the Fort. Sarah looked at Lilith, "What is taking her so long?" she complained crossly.

Bryn moved to the record player that sat where the instructor had placed it for exercise class. "Well, we could do a warm up," she moved through a stack of records picking one she thought the rest would grove to. She placed the needle down and soon the rocking sound a guitar and drum could be heard being blasted at top volume. Lilith growled, and began to prance. Some of the others imitated her and some just started to move their own way. Bryn began gyrating as she stood beside the record player. Bryn shouted to Sarah, "Sarah, shake it." Closing her eyes, letting the notes tell her how to move Sarah began to dance in the most provocative manner of all.

Some of the girls stopped dancing to watch; even Marge stopped moving in admiration of Sarah. Marge looked from Sarah to Bryn to Lilith, and noticed how their movements were matched. They were using exaggerated movements taught in the gymnastics class they had all been forced to take. When the record finished all three were in various exaggerated positions on the floor while the rest of the girls stood by applauding wildly. At that point the instructor had rejoined the class, and she was applauding as well. She asked the three if they had ever considered going into dance seriously. She felt they could make very good chorus dancers, and perhaps Sarah's mother could give them a helping hand at getting a start.

Sarah felt herself stiffen at the suggestion. It was one thing to dance and feel free; it would be another to dance under the direction of a dance master. There again there was always the chance someone might have to touch her. She rejected the idea as quickly as it had been suggested.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Sitting on her bed in the dorm room that felt so much a part of her now, Sarah wondered about the future. She'd gotten her father to agree to her stating university right away. She'd gotten him to agree to her living in a dorm again. She'd known he was disappointed, but if what she was going to do was going to work she needed to separate herself from the family to protect them. She looked over the book in her hand, and wondered how it was Lilith was always able to come up with these rare and out of print tomes.

Light tapping altered her that Lilith was at her door; "Come in," she called softly knowing most of the rest of the students were long asleep.

Lilith entered the room quietly closing the door behind her. "I saw your light was still on," she observed.

"Just finishing this text, I think I actually understand it," teased Sarah.

Lilith moved to the bed and took a seat, placing her hand close to Sarah's leg without touching her. "Are your folks coming up for the graduation?"

Nodding Sarah looked at her friend. "And yours?"

A moment of sadness passed Lilith's features for the briefest time. "It's just my mother and I… and she'll be there."

"Oh I'm sorry Lilith; I didn't know your father was dead…" Sarah experienced discomfort at the thought of making her friend sad.

Lilith winced, "I don't know if he's dead… I don't know him… he and mom never tied the knot… and he took off…" She sniffed then changed the subject. "Is your dad moving you over to the dorm at the university?"

"Yep, right after the ceremony here… we got permission for my things to go in right away. The joys of having a lawyer in the family… You ready to start classes?"

"I'm more ready to start work on your revenge." Lilith stated in a icy quip. "I can't wait to see you in real action."

"Well wait we must…" Sarah tossed the book aside. "I can not do anything until all the stars are aligned."

Inching her fingers forward Lilith's voice filled with longing. "Sarah, how I wish I could just warp you in my arms… just once…"

"I appreciate that you are so loving a friend," Sarah said distracted, not seeing the longing for what it was but mistaking it for the deep concern of a friend. "I never knew just how much someone could miss something as simple as…" stretching her hand out toward the other girl's hand she trembled. "This."

Bryn tapped at the door and looked upset, "I just heard on my radio they let Daniels go."

"What," Sarah bolted from the mattress and moved to the door. "They did what?"

"He must have powerful friends." Lilith grumbled; "Letting that sick bastard out."

"He can't come near the school or the clinic, but he's free." Bryn looked from Lilith to Sarah. "Are you alright?"

Sarah turned to Lilith, "Bear said he worked as an ambulance driver, does he still have connections?" When the Greek girl nodded, Sarah's lips curled into a cruel jeering smile. "Perhaps dear Bear can help us keep track of that snake, and maybe we can get a little practice in before we take on a certain Goblin King…" Lilith's laugh sounded like a dry cackle. Bryn said nothing choosing to keep her feelings to herself.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

The gardens at the Goblin palace were looking more cared for than they had in years. Hoggle was working in the new rose garden when he found himself being observed by his King. "Sire," he greeted the King quietly as he continued to work.

"Higgle," Jareth returned the greeting.

"Hoggle," the dwarf corrected as he finished the graph of a new breed of rose. "Is everything to your liking?" He asked the King.

"You're doing a fine job," Jareth grumbled. "Tell me are you… friends with Sir Didymus?"

"I know him," Hoggle nodded. "I don't really recall how we met or became companions but yes, Sire, I'm familiar with him."

Resenting having to ask a favor of this subject rankled the King. "He's getting on… and I'm worried about him being alone…"

"He should retire," suggested the dwarf still working. "Like your old tutor… spend time in the gardens… nap when the need comes… and enjoy his golden years." Sitting back on his haunches he admired the new rose. "He's earned it."

"He'll see it as an insult if I tell him to retire," Jareth began to pace. "I turned down his request to be decommissioned… I cannot just tell him to hang up his sword. However I cannot leave him guarding the bog either."

The dwarf's face twisted and he gave the King an almost murderous glare. "Got yer self in to a pickle have ye?" his voice grated and sneered.

Jareth heard the remark and swiftly turned, but the dwarf was once more peacefully working on his garden chores. "Hoggle, has Didymus told you of his… hallucinations?" He asked carefully.

Shrugging, the dwarf gave it little thought. "The dreams of an old man;" Mused the dwarf. He turned to Jareth, "I think you should transfer him to the hedge garden maze… he'd still be thinking he was on active duty."

Jareth nodded, "I'll give that consideration, lovely garden… Hickgle," Jareth moved on.

Hoggle reached out, ripping the new graphed rose from its place on the tap root. He crushed it and tossed it aside. The little man with the weathered hands and face grumbled as he limped over to another rose so he could trample it. When he was done he cleaned up the mess and knelt down to begin his work all over.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

A voice calling from the terrace drew the King's attentions. Devon was holding a scroll above his head and calling out in an excited tone. "Jareth, the Avalon post is here!"

Jareth took his time, he'd have preferred to have run up the path, but as he was trying to be more King than boy he strode there in a calm pace. "Ah and what does our good High King command now?"

"We have been invited to appear at the Midsummer Day and take part in the rituals and rites. The High King has set a suite of rooms aside for your use." Devon smiled and handed the scroll to his cousin. "It's all nicely worded, but I'll tell you this, it's a command performance."

"They want to see if there are any cracks in my veneer," Jareth mused teasingly. "The court thinks I'll be arrogant and ignore this summons… and wouldn't that just make Talagon's day?"

"We're going then?" Devon smiled thinking of the luxurious palace and the pleasures to be had.

Jareth leaned over the balustrade, watching as the dwarf ripped apart the rose he'd just planted. "Yes, we are going." He said softly. "We need to be seen…. And it will be a pleasant distraction for us both."

"How many do you want in the royal party?" Devon asked getting into the spirit of the outing.

"I don't care," Jareth sighed; "As long as I have my Harpy guards." He narrowed his vision, wondering what the hell that damn dwarf thought he was doing.

"Take some interest in this, if you please." Devon demanded now also looking where his cousin was gazing. "What the hell is he doing?"

"Ripping up roses he's just planted and graphed." Jareth looked at Devon, "Hoggle is one of the three….who were… closest to the…" He refused to go on, and sealed his mouth with a grim expression.

"Oh," Devon nudged him. "Then let's discuss whom we should include in our assembly of representatives."

"Whom do you suggest?" He'd a feeling the handsome Baron had several choices in mind.

"Lady Rosalind for one," Devon growled softly. "She's always amusing."

"She's expecting you to plead for her hand you know," Jareth warned as he knew the lovely red haired Fae woman had already begun a campaign to become a Baroness.

"Oh," Devon's mask of gaily slipped. "Can't have that;" He shook his head and mentally crossed her off the list; "How about Lord and Lady Timus? They are good company…"

"They are not members of my court." Jareth reminded the Baron.

"Damn it all Jareth," Devon exclaimed hotly. "You're not helping."

The King turned his back on the antics of the dwarf and turned his full attention to the business of creating a proper court train. "Lords and Ladies of the Fae realm are not going to set us apart from the other Kingdoms of the Underground who will be present… every High Land Holder will be there Devon. We need to show we are who we are."

"Jareth, you can not mean to bring Goblins… not again… think of what happened the last time." Devon recalled all too well. "The High Queen will have a fit."

"I mean to bring Goblins, but specific ones." Jareth stated coolly. "I want the court scribe, Lutin and his wife to be part of the party. They are Hobgoblins and know more about court etiquette and protocol than either you or I do." He watched his cousin's face relax in agreement. "I also want a few of the higher clan leaders and their wives in attendance. You may add four Fae representatives, but make sure they are citizens of the Kingdom… remember we are not a Fae Kingdom, Devon." He silenced the protest he read coming in his cousins' eyes. "We are the Goblin Kingdom, and we will take Goblins in our party."

Devon whispered, "Four Fae beside you and I?"

"You and I are Goblin citizens… some of the Fae you've suggested are not citizens. Lady Rosalind although very lovely and good company has not requested citizenship; she's a guest of our Kingdom nothing more." Jareth argued effectively. "If you are going to bring Fae, bring those who've become citizens… they have more at stake."

"You speak as if you expect a declaration of war." The handsome Baron commented curtly.

"I do," Jareth moved way from the man, heading to the castle. "I've made more enemies now than I had when I was just playing at being King."

"We've a few Hobs, and a very intelligent Kobold clan," Devon began numerating. "I suppose we could ask the old tutor…"

Jareth was already striding toward the library. "Have Lutin help you with the list. I've an appointment I must keep." He pointed toward the door that would lead to the scribe. Watching as his cousin moved swiftly to the inside to greet the well informed court Scribe and make arrangements.

Jareth moved swiftly to the lower level of the castle. "Joachim, are you here?" he called out.

"Aye Sire, I'm here." A voice answered.

Jareth found his metal smith giving orders to his assistants. "No fool! If you don't tighten that bolt, a prisoner will be able to get out of that shackle!" He cuffed the little fool and pushed him aside, taking the tools into his own skilled hands. "Like this, do you see?"

"Yes, Master." The little assistant bowed. "Forgive me."

Joachim placed one big hand on the shoulder of the assistant. "If you don't apply yourself you'll never become journeymen, Talic. I would hate to have to inform your father you failed."

Jareth watched the exchange, seeing the relationship he wondered how many other guilds were apprenticing. Joachim came to where he stood. "The boy has potential, but has a hard time applying himself."

"Perhaps he's not meant to work in dungeons…" Jareth suggested.

"To work for me, he has to work where I do… not just in the forge on blades of beauty, but on implements of torture." Joachim turned his gaze on the refurbished dungeon with approval and appreciation. "Like a good many of the younger lads, Talic is not use to real work…" He gave the King a knowing gaze.

"My fault," Jareth admitted readily. "But we are making progress at turning that around."

Joachim looked at his King, his expression was unreadable. "I'm not blaming you along, Sire. You were the youngest of your kind to come to sit upon our throne. You at least made something of an effort to get to know your subjects." He shifted his weight; "Besides, the Labyrinth accepted you." He changed subjects quickly. "Your dungeon is completely renovated, my King. Everything is back in working order, and the additions you requested have been implemented."

Jareth moved deeper into the depths of the cavernous space, his face showed approval. "You did fine work Joachim, my complements to you and your apprentices."

The master metal worker bowed. "I have to give credit to your Leather Master for his contributions, Sire." He handled the leather strap work that the other Hobgoblin had skillfully designed. "Master Lazarus has created some fine work, to be married to mine."

"Lazarus lives to work leather," mused the Goblin King inspecting the work that had been done. His orders had been followed, to the letter and beyond.

Joachim followed the King deeper into the cavern, glancing once behind to see the one Harpy who rarely left the King's side. "And does madam approve?" He asked her.

Della looked at the chamber designed for torture and mayhem, "I neither approve nor disapprove." She looked superbly glorious in her splendid Goblin Leather harness. Now having fed regularly the Harpy's figure had filled out and she was stunning. Being the more dominate of the three Harpies attached to the King, she had taken the leaders role.

The Goblin Metal-smith snickered before turning his attention back to the King. "The next chamber is the one I think you'll be most pleased with Sire," he opened a dark oaken door and allowed the King to pass before him into a chamber that was clearly a private chamber for torturing a prisoner. Chained shackles hung from the ceiling, dangling and looking as if they were well used. A table of implements and rare tools of the dungeon master were set near by. A small basket where glowing coals could be kept held metal rods and porkers and other things that would be used during a session of getting information or cooperation; "As you requested, Sire."

Jareth nodded, "It's almost like Zoltarie never left." He commented to the Hobgoblin in a thoughtful voice. "And the other little matter?"

"Awaits you in your own chamber, as I promised," answered the pleased metal-smith.

Della followed the King from the dungeon back toward the private throne room he kept for his goblins and himself. She had kept quiet after exiting the chamber, and Jareth wondered what she was thinking. "You look perplexed, is something wrong Della?"

The Harpy turned to the King and spoke her mind, "I was wondering if you had that chamber returned to its former specifications and order as a warning, or as a reminder of it's past… Does our King intend to show it off or use it?" Her tone was as saucy as the leer in her eyes.

"I'll use it, if I need to," he assured her as he moved toward his familiar seat in the Goblin Throne. "You didn't think I had them do all that just for show did you?"

"I had hoped not," Della admitted. "I should like to see Talagon squirm in such a room."

"I thought you said he shot blanks," Jareth teased lightly.

Della gave him a lusty gaze, "I said I want him to squirm, not rut." Both King and Harpy snickered wickedly. She looked at him, "Are we really going to Avalon for the Midsummer feast?"

"Yes, that means you and your sisters had best feed before we go… I don't want any incidents." Jareth warned softly. "That is I want no incidents of your making."

Della leaned over the arm of the throne, her face aglow with excitement. "Our King goes to stir the pot?"

"Or break a few eggs," he lounged back in comfort. "Della, see that I'm not disturbed for an hour or so…" He motioned her to the entrance as he closed his eyes.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Sarah looked at the diploma that Karen had a frame ready for and now was sitting on the dorm wall. She looked at the painting that was on the other wall; something about it seemed to be calling to her. She was spending more and more time trying to see into it. Still just a dragon chasing a bird in her eyes, and yet she could not leave it alone.

Lilith came into the room with the mail, "Sarah, you've a letter from your mother." She handed it to the other girl and then took a seat on one of the three beds. "Bryn will be up in a moment, she had to get a box that was shipped to her from home."

Sarah opened the letter and snickered. "My mother says she trusts I'm not doing anything illegal but she was able to get a hold of the items we requested and will be sending all of them by Fed Ex. She says she does not want to know what we are doing and that I should have a nice birthday and she'll see me as soon as she gets back from her shoot."

"She was able to get it all?" Lilith pursed her lips and gave a low whistle.

"You would not believe some of the contacts Linda Williams has made;" Boasted the girl. "She knows writers, actors, researchers, poets and chemists. You name it, Linda has conquered it."

"Must be where you get that fiery spirit from," Lilith purred.

Bryn entered their dorm room with arms laden with boxes and letters. "Give a hand would you?"

Lilith scrambled to her side, and relieved her of some of her burden. "I thought they said you had one box," she grumbled.

Bryn ignored her. "Sarah there's a box down there for you, and you have to sign for it. They refused to allow me to sign for you."

"Must be the shipment from mother," Sarah said dropping the note on her desk. "I'd better go down before they close the mail room." She moved out of the room quickly.

Lilith watched her go wistfully. Bryn frowned at the Greek girl. "Stop mooning, she does not see you or it." She warned sharply.

"Someday she might," Lilith became defensive. "Someday I may be able to show her how much I care…"

Bryn shook her head at her, "Lilith, you want Sarah because she's unobtainable, and she has more power in her little finger than you've ever dreamed of… If she had the least idea of what you really want she'd turn her back on you and this scheme." The girl pulled the stick out of her hair that held her long braid in a coil at the back of her neck. "You have no idea of what a can of worms we are opening."

"And you do?" Lilith asked sarcastically. "I don't see you trying to talk Sarah out of it."

Bryn's fingers swiftly ran through her hair, and it now hung over her shoulders in long waves. Except for her clothes she looked suddenly like someone from another age. "The die is cast, and I'm but a player…" She looked at the boxes on her bed and the ones on Lilith's. "But I know this much, no matter what we do, Sarah Williams is never going to look at you the way Bear does."

"Bear is a diversion," Lilith quipped. "He means no more than a means of alleviating my tensions."

Bryn shrugged as she began to open the parcels. "Live in denial if you wish." She could feel the seething of the other girl and said carefully. "And don't be thinking of making threats to me, you need three to complete this spell… the three who started the path must finish it. You need me, Lilith."

Tossing her a dirty look, the Greek girl moved away to her own bed. "I think our little friendship is coming to an end, Bryn…. Once I've freed Sarah's dreams… and she is mine, you and I are through."

"Yeah, yeah," Bryn was not listening any longer. She was sorting the parchments and the crystals her great aunt had sent to her from Wales. Her Aunt Mercy had warned her that these were powerful tools and not to be played with but to be respected. Bryn knew Mercy knew where of she spoke; after all she'd been trained by Welsh Derwydds, and had practices the principals for nearly seventy of her eight five years. Being Ban Droi herself, Bryn knew that for her to be passing on the crystals and parchments meant that Aunt Mercy was preparing for a long journey… Bryn prayed to her God and Goddess that she was ready for the mantel to be passed on, and that she'd the strength to shoulder the responsibility that she was taking on. She cast a sideways glance toward Lilith, more and more she was suspicious of her and her motives.

Lilith was inspecting each of the fine leather masks that had been sent to her from her relations back in Greece. They had not asked for the reasons, nor had they asked to be informed of anything. She held up one, a Tigers' face, to her own face and giggled. "This is great."

Bryn shook her head; "I wonder if you know just what you're playing with?" she muttered but knew the other girl was choosing not to listen.

Sarah returned carting in two large parcels on a rolling dolly that had been borrowed from the mail room. "Shit this is heavy!" Lilith helped her removed the parcels and handed her a little box cutter to open the packages. Sarah chose to open the smallest one first. "The herbs and potions we asked for from Mr. Cho are here." She announced passing bottles and vials to them standing over her. "He says we are to take care how we administer the use of them."

"How oriental of him," Lilith darkly amused sighed.

Sarah began to open the larger parcel and took out the note on the top. "My mother says these are all the cast offs of the production 'Biker Babes from Hell'. And we are to use them as we see fit, and to have a good time." She began unloading the leather garments. "Crap, she must have grabbed everything that was not nailed down!" Handing items to the other two she kept finding more. "There must be a fortune in leather in here!"

Bryn read one of the labels, "Holy crap, this was a _**Piero Tucci**_ original!" They looked at her and she said. "He's only one of the foremost leather masters in the world… His factory is in Florence, Italy."

Lilith was trying on a jacket. "He makes good shit!"

Hearing Bryn's amazement, Sarah checked more than one label. "Most of this is Tucci…I wonder if he owed the producer of the film a favor." She looked at another label, "Bryn who is John Royce?"

"Harley Davidson designer," Bryn replied looking at the tag over Sarah's shoulder, careful not to touch her friend; "One of the up and coming American names in leather-wear."

"And this one, Marco?" She handed the item to Bryn to inspect.

"This guy is one of the Italian designers, see how his lines are more… I don't know.. refined compared to the raw look of Royce?" Bryn laughed softly. "My cousin Tom was into bikes when I was a little girl…" her face went dark. "Before he…" she handed the item back to  
Sarah and excused herself for a moment.

Sarah looked at Lilith who was preening in front of a mirror. "You should wear that for Bear, he'd love it."

"This and nothing else," murmured Lilith with a smirk. She turned to Sarah. "Hey, we should wear this stuff to the party on the twenty-first!"

"I don't know, I'm thinking of going home…" Sarah said softly. "It's my birthday and I think I should spend it with the family."

"In the middle of the week, don't be silly." Lilith chided her; "Besides it's the summer solstice and we have to do that ritual if you want things to work. You become a full maiden on that day, and we have to start the year's rituals so we can take care of business…" She moved closer. "That is if you still want to get even."

"I want that more than anything."

"More than a trip home to mommy and daddy?" Lilith asked snidely.

Sarah longed for the loving touch of her family. She longed to hold Toby close, but revenge was a tempting appeal. "Alright, I'll go to the party and we'll hold our ritual in the woods… Does Bear know what we are doing?"

"Who cares what he knows," Lilith said blithely. "As long as we get what we need."

"How we getting there," Sarah asked looking at the leather garments.

"I'm going with Bear on his bike, and Snake said he'd drive you and Bryn," Lilith was back at the mirror preening again. "It's gonna be fuckin' great!"

Bryn was in the hall, listening to the exchange and wishing Sarah had refused. She looked at the tarot cards she'd cast earlier that morning, the fool had come up in a reading for Lilith and the emperor for Sarah. 'What's cast is cast,' she thought to herself.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Devon stood with the nervous Lutin as the King's party assembled. Lutin who had never left the King's compound looked like he was ready to jump out of his skins. "Relax," Devon said soothingly. "It's only Avalon, it's a picnic compared to living here."

"I've never left the compound," Lutin reiterated. "I'm attached to the castle."

"You're attached to the throne," Corrected the King as he paced edgily, like a caged cat. "I am the throne; you may go where I go…"

"In theory…" Lutin objected once more as his wife, a soft eyed Hobgoblin stood by and listened quietly. "A theory that has never been tested, Joyous and I have never once left the King's compound!" Della snickered as she watched, and then covered her snicker with a cough.

Devon looked at Jareth, "He does have a point." Exasperated and pushed beyond his endurance Jareth grabbed the shoulder of the little scholar, causing both to vanish in an eye blink. Devon shook his head and looked at Joyous, the scholar's pretty little Hobgoblin wife. "He's such a show off…"

The wise eyes of the little female widened, "Lutin is going to be in a state!"

"Lutin will recover," assured the Lord Baron as the rest of the party assembled. He had kept the list to an even dozen, with the King making the thirteen member of the party. The Scholar and his wife, the Master Metal worker Joachim and his mate Flur, Lord Granger and his wife Lady Millette, Lord Treven and his spouse Lady Jade. The last three in the party were Della the Harpy who was always with the King, Daisy the little Goblin Guard who was ever present with the King as well and lastly Rondo the King's valet. No other servant would be going as the rest of the party would be seen to by servants in the guest quarters in the Avalon palace. Devon counted as everyone but the King and Lutin were accounted for. "Soon as he returns we'll leave," he informed the party ushering the four Fae cutinizes of the Realm into a coach. He ushered Joyous to the coach she would share with the other Goblin court representatives. Moments later when the King returned with the much shaken Lutin, Devon saw him to the coach as well. Daisy snickered under her breath, but stayed respectful of the Scholar. Rondo kept quietly to himself, feeling a bit ill at ease with so many Goblins in a confined space.

Devon mounted his dragon, while the King mounted his. Della made a show of opening her wings to their full span and stretching suggestively knowing the King would give her one of his haughty little looks. The dragons seemed unusually restless and Devon suggested a little race as they rose. Della cawed that she wanted in, and Jareth in answer urged his dragon to rise faster. The coaches, pulled by six winged horses each moved forward at their own pace.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Classes had let out early, and the girls were in their room changing, sharing the one large mirror to apply makeup. Sarah had received her call from the family wishing her a happy birthday, and their gift had arrived the night before. She thanked them and spent a few moments in conversation with her little brother who at four was using words she'd not quiet been expecting. He told her that her room had bootaful light, and she translated that to beautiful light. He had also said he missed her, and begged her to come home more often. When she'd gotten off the phone she wondered to herself if the boy would ever understand how much she was doing this for him as well as for her.

Of the three Lilith was the most provocative dresser, having rejected the suggestion of a tee shirt or anything else under the revealing jacket that fit her like a second skin. The slinky breeches she'd chosen for the outing were lace up the sides and down her bottom showing off how rounded it was and revealing a bit more than skin. Her long black hair was allowed to flow over her shoulders. The black leather gave her alabaster skin a glow. Bryn had found a rich mahogany colored set of leathers in a long skirt with a matching jacket and halter. Her long red hair was pulled away from her face with a leather ornament that had a long ivory stick. Sarah had chosen a bolero styled black jacket that was worn over a red leather bra, the long slender leather pants were black with a side panel of red matching her top as did the crouch area of the pants.

Looking in the mirror Sarah hardly recognized herself. Never one to wear much makeup beyond a bit of lip gloss and liner, she was amazed at the transformation. Lilith had schooled her in applying shadow in a dramatic style and Bryn had given her tips on using a darker lip liner and lip color. Both girls had helped her with making her long tresses look a bit wilder. All three had their pentagrams in full view of anyone who cared to look.

Lilith looked out the window, "Snake and Bear just pulled up." She grabbed her little purse and slung it over her head and shoulder. "Come on."

Sarah and Bryn both carried what looked like picnic baskets but carried the essentials for the ritual they were to perform. They moved toward the car and the biker who was driving it.

Snake looked at Bryn and gave a low whistle, "Hot red, really hot!"

Bryn gave him a smile, she'd found him to be a strange soul mate. He was not what he looked to be, and she found him good company when they were together. "Thanks, Snake." She gave him her basket to place in the trunk for the drive to the party's location.

Sarah handed him the basket in her hands, trying to ignore the fury of hands grabbing sink and leather that was being preformed by Bear and Lilith. "Nice day," she muttered to the biker.

He rolled his eyes. "Hey! Move it or lose it."

"She already lost it," Bear quipped back as he grabbed at Lilith's round bottom. "Didn't ya baby?" A lewd laugh escaped the Greek girl as she was shoved toward the big bike sitting at the curb.

Bryn sat in the front seat with Snake while Sarah occupied the back seat where she knew she would not accidently encounter unwanted contact with either of the others. Bryn and Snake were discussing something mundane while Sarah began to watch the countryside. As they passed an old estate that had been abandoned she broke into the conversation going on in the front seat. "What is that place, do you know Snake?"

"That's the old Danvers Asylum." Snake said. "Started out as the Danvers' estate back in the early eighteen hundreds and became a hospital for the insane after the outbreak of the civil war."

Sarah turned to look at the expanse of land and buildings lying fallow; "Any relations to Doctor Danvers of the sleep clinic?"

"His old man was the last director of that hell hole!" Snake scoffed harshly. "Some say that Doc cut his teeth on the patients there."

"Who owns it now?" Sarah asked with darkness glistening in emerald eyes.

Bryn heard the quiver of excitement and wished that Snake would not answer.

"I hear it's in receivership," He chuckled. "No one wants it… but I heard it's got everything to sustain existence including its own generator plant and water filtration system. It's a fuckin' fortress."

"It's perfect." Sarah watched as it diminished as they drove on.

Bryn looked at the hands clasped in her lap, and felt fate tightening it's grip.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Flanked by Daisy and Della, Jareth approached the High King's throne. He gave a grand bow to the King and Queen and greeted them warmly. "My King, my Queen."

Tatiana offered him a gentle smile. "You are most welcome, Goblin King."

Oberon stood up and opened his arms offering a warmer welcome than he'd given most who were attending the festival. "My son," he whispered in the younger King's ear. "Welcome."

"We thank you for your welcome," Jareth kept his tone formal, not for the King but for the company assembled to hear. His hands gripping the older King told the elder of his acceptance of the greeting. He stepped back and regarded the elder with an apprising glance. "You look well."

Oberon gave the boy the same regard. "I was about to say the same of you." He looked toward the Goblin representatives. "I do hope you'll enjoy your stay with us." He watched as they moved on.

A woman standing on the sidelines poked the girl standing beside her. "See, he bears no ill will. Not a word against you has he spoken." When her husband opened his mouth she warned him sharply. "Someone has to be his queen, why not our daughter?"

Tanya looked at her mother with doubts. "You didn't hear him."

"Matters not," the mother said in what she perceived as a wise tone. "You will go and greet him, and if need be make an excuse for your father's folly." The Duke looked at his Duchess and gave a scoff. But the daughter listened.

Tanya squared her shoulders, raised her head proudly and walked gracefully to where the Goblin King stood. "Good day, Sire," she dipped down in graceful motion. "I hope you are well."

"Tolerable," answered the Goblin King curtly.

"I fear I owe you an apology," Tanya said with a pout. "Our last meeting ended so poorly."

Jareth was amused by her idea of an apology. "Did it, I hardly recall." He dismissed her and began to walk away.

"I would like to plead my case," she whimpered in a soft feminine manner.

Della looked from the amused face of the King to the pouting face of the little Fae female. She rolled her eyes toward the heavens, an expression of exasperation on her face. Daisy caught the expression and looked at the Fae girl as well with a dubious expression on her face. Both guards flanked the King and the girl could not truly get as close to him as she'd have liked to.

Jareth paused to give the girl what he hoped was received as a condescending smile. Sighing in exasperation that matched his guards' he spoke to the pouting girl. "Don't trouble yourself, Tanya. I know that your father was to blame for your being displayed before me, hoping to bribe my good will. You are far too young and… naïve to have concocted such an elaborate ruse." He reached out, patted her on the head like a lap dog and moved on, leaving her shaking in fury.

Her mother rushed to her side, "Tanya, not a sound." She warned harshly. "He is a king…but he is also a man… and you must appease that side if you wish to win his attentions."

Fire in the girl's eyes ignited, "I'm not sure I want his attentions…"

"He has a crown, and will need a Queen…" her mother reminded her and watched with delight as the girl calmed and responded accordingly.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Sarah, Lilith and Bryn entered the woods slightly before noon. The circle that Bear had prepared for them awaited them and they had limited time with which to begin the rites. Sarah took the goblet as it was passed to her and drank of the brew that Lilith had prepared, spoke her vow and passed the cup to Bryn who reluctantly did the same. Lilith finished the brew and broke the cup in the center of the bale fire that was in the center of the circle.

Lilith took her athame, priced her hand and let the blood drop into the fire, before passing the blade to Bryn, and then lastly to Sarah. The three young witches stood with blood dripping into the flames. The flame lapped up the blood and sputtered wildly. Lilith smiled wickedly, "There's no turning back now," she announced. "Blood oaths are binding."

Bryn looked at Sarah with a bit of sympathy. "We stand alone now, without other blood ties, this is binding."

"I'd prefer they didn't know," Sarah said pulling her hand back and looking at where she'd wounded herself, there was already a little scar there on the finger. The reminder that things are not always what they seem to be or what you think they are. The fairy had looked so sweet before it had bitten her.

Bryn held back as Lilith went off dancing in the woods to the arms of her sometimes lover. "Sarah, I hope you know what you're doing."

"I'm doing what I have to," she snapped hastily. "I have to ensure Toby's protection."

"This is for revenge, not protection." Bryn reasoned. "I'm not against revenge…" she sighed. "I understand why and how… but do you?"

"I have to do this," She looked at the fires that would burn themselves out in the matter of an hour. "You didn't have to, neither did Lil."

"It takes three to perform the ritual." Bryn said flatly; "You, me and Lil." Shrugging she waved a hand. "Oh let's get back to the party before they miss us and Lilith does something stupid." As they exited the woods they witnessed Lilith's striptease on an old picnic table. "Too late," Bryn sighed.

"Gotta give her credit for balls," Sarah sighed as she felt moved to dance, but remain dressed. Bryn felt moved to dance as well and the pair stayed grounded.

Bear watched with aroused pleasure as his little sexual playmate teased him and removed her clothes not caring who saw her naked. He knew the little minx was sexual hungry and he knew that because the girl with green eyes could not or would not fed the fires his services would be needed. It mattered not to him if the whole world watched as he gave Lilith what she needed. He was not even discreet this time, but unzipped and lowered his trousers so the minx could swiftly mount his rising shaft. Bryn and Sarah ignored the pair, too engulfed in their own delight.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11. Acts of the aggressive nature**

Several of the bikers who'd been in a field practicing with cross bows darts, made lewd comments about and to the pair performing the erotic act of passion. To their amusement both the man and young woman retorted lewd comments in return. One offered to give pointers and was briskly refused. Another of the men placed his cross bow on the table beside them and announced he had to take a leak, before slapping another of the spectators shoulder. Sarah and Bryn were aware of what Bear and Lilith were doing, but chose not to look. They continued to dance to the heavy beat of the song blasting out of the boom-box.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Jareth, Devon at his side, walked through the garden basking in the warm light of the summer sun. Behind the King walked Della, behind Devon was Daisy, both standing guard and keeping an ever watchful eye. Jareth smiled as he watched young men of the Fae court playing games with winsome maids. "You could join them," he suggested to his cousin.

"I don't rob cradles if I can help it," retorted the Baron looking disdainfully at the romping youths. "Too many mother's with very tight apron strings." Jareth snickered as he walked on at his cousin's side.

Oberon watched the young royals as they walked on the pathway. "He looks like a King," he commented in an aside to his wife.

"He does at that, my dearest," she agreed, secretly pleased at having both young royals back in the fold. "It would seem a good many have taken notice that he is here." She pointed to the young women who were eyeing the pair as they walked with their guards.

The High King sighed deeply. "Let us at least hope he's temperate in his rejections of their attentions."

Tatiana pouted slightly, "Oberon, are you so sure he'll reject these offered attentions?"

"I fear so," the High King held a hand out to his wife. "Come let us dance."

Jareth observed the High King escorting his wife to the merry dance in the green garden. He turned his attention toward the minstrels they were now approaching. Devon noticed a flute on the ground, left discarded by some minstrel who'd gone off to dance. He lifted and placed it to his lips. The Goblin King pointed to the mandolin laying at the feet of the lute player, who nodded his permission. Jareth raised it off the ground, tuned it to his liking and began to strum.

Tanya's mother bent to speak in the ear of the seated girl. "See how courtly he can be when someone is not trying to play him?"

The little Fae female did indeed see, and wondered if the handsome young King realized how many of the young Fae female were lining up to snag him. "I will ask him to dance this evening mother." The Duchess smiled broadly thinking she'd soon have the handsome young King for a son in law, and would be part of the royal family at last.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Lilith was still draped over Bear, basking in the afterglow. Bear looked at Sarah who was now sitting on the picnic table sipping a bottle of ginger beer while she had a discussion with Snake that was becoming a bit heated. She took little or no notice of the pair still entwined, Bear began to pity the girl in his arms and nuzzled her close. The little green eyed Sarah was unaware of Lilith's devotions, and Bear was not about to change that status. He nuzzled the willing girl as he began to listen to the conversation.

"You're insane!" Snake roared with laughter. "No one in their right minds would consider such a thing." He turned to Bear and pointed back at Sarah. "You hear her? She wants to rent the old Danvers place."

"The asylum?" Bear looked at Sarah, who was sitting on the table calm as a clam. "What would you want with that place?" Lilith also lifted her head and looked at Sarah, she too wanted to hear this answer.

"It's perfect for my needs," Sarah said raising the ginger beer bottle to her lips.

"That place is a hell hole!" Snake railed. "Not even the worst biker gang in the territory wants to stay there. Hell, they say it's haunted."

Coyly Sarah looked at the man who she was beginning to think of as a friend. "Snake, you mean to tell me you're afraid of a few wisps of smoke?"

Bear shook his head, "Sarah, don't go there." He warned crossly urging the naked nymph on his still hard arousal to get off. "That place is only good for crows and bats." He pulled his jeans back up his hips and got off his chair. "That place is permeated with… porneuo."

Lilith, still naked as a jay bird sat on the bench beneath Sarah. "That's an old Greek word for evil… no make that Evil with a capital E," she explained leaning back and basking in the last rays of the late after noon sun.

Bear ran a hand though his thick waves of dark hair, "_**I**_ don't even go there."

"Because of some story of ghosts," Sarah challenged darkly.

The Greek biker leader looked at her, tempted to just let her think what she wanted. "No," he said at last. He took a long drink off the beer passed to him by Snake. "That place has a dark history, little girl. Nasty experiments took place there… hell you thought Daniels was bad? Your friend Doctor Danvers daddy was ten times worse." Pointing his bottle at Sarah he challenged. "You've begun to walk a path, a path of power and magic… you can't ignore the energies that become part of a place… The evil that men do does live on after them, Sarah." Taking another drink he settled down. "Besides it would take a lot of money to rent and fix the place up."

"How much money, give me a ball park figure." Sarah said still not convinced this was not her best hope.

"I doubt the currant owners would even consider renting, but it would have to cost somewhere in the neighbor hood of oh… say… ten grand a month." Snickering he looked at Sarah teasingly. "Think you can get Daddy to raise your allowance?"

"I wouldn't ask him to," Sarah admitted ominously. "I don't want him or the rest of my family involved in this." She bit at her lower lip. "How can a girl make a lot of money around here short of robbing a bank?"

"Striping," Snake and Bear said in unison; Sarah, Bryn and Lilith all looked up at him.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Della stood behind the King as he finished his dinner, she listened to the conversations. Not just the one Jareth was involved in, but to the ones going on around the room about the handsome and eligible Goblin King. Once more she took a sniff, lightly so not to disturb the King. No, he was not eligible, no matter what he or others said. He had the scent of some female on him and his own essences were mingled with that scent in a manner that was indissoluble. Daisy kept a clear head and a keen eye open. She stood guard and she too was listening to the conversations. Della leaned over toward her and whispered, "I smell a pack of hungry cats looking for a fish."

Daisy chuckled softly, "Can they not see he's no interest in them?"

"Vanity," Della said before fluttering her wings to scare off a young woman approaching the King.

Oberon stood marking the end of dinner and the beginning of the evening's entertainment. Jareth would have preferred to have been allowed to go to his chambers for the remainder of the evening but that was out of the question. The entire assembly was expected to follow the High King and Queen into the Grand Ballroom for dancing and merry making. Jareth and Devon followed along; being of the Royal family they were expected to sit near the High Royal couple on the stairs of the Dais with the rest of the relations that were present.

Jareth took a seat on the stairs, trying to enjoy the spectacle that was being played out. Devon noticed several young women vying to attract the attention of the young King. He leaned back on his elbows and looked at Jareth with a haughty amused grin. "Feeling like a piece of meat yet?"

"More like one of Oberon's prize bulls;" Quipped the King.

Tatiana heard the comments and hid her chuckle behind a fan. She'd long ago stopped trying to pair either Jareth or Devon with a lady of her court. Both seemed perfectly happy remaining unattached. She dropped the fan as a song began to play that was quite merry. Stepping down she turned and offered her hand to the Goblin King. "Come lad, dance with me."

"A pleasure," he smiled warmly to the High Queen taking her hand and escorting her to the dance floor.

"A good many ladies are watching you closely." She observed. "However I see you are not impressed."

Jareth, light on his feet and an excellent partner danced with ease. "I've no desire to be pursued."

The Queen gave him a fond smile. "It would please the High King to see you…"

Jareth interrupted her gently. "I'm as settled as I can afford to be just now, my Lady." He hoped she'd drop it.

"Then a word of caution," she offered and when he nodded she gave it. "Beware of the Gentry; they have designs on your Queen's crown."

"Thank you for the warning," he whispered. "I am aware." When the song ended he escorted the Queen back though a sea of young hopefuls. But it was the young woman waiting at the Dias that caused him more discomfort. Tanya stood with her mother awaiting the High Queen. They struck up a conversation, but the Goblin King was already aware of the purpose.

"I understand your court is active again," the Duchess commented to Jareth. "How wonderful, so handsome a young King and an active court."

"More work than wonderful," Jareth said carefully.

"Ruling is," observed the elder woman softly. "Perhaps that is why it is best to have a Queen at the side of a King."

Devon covered his mouth to prevent the laughter that threatened to escape. He looked at Jareth and wondered how he planed on extricating himself from the clutches of this old hawk hen.

Seeing only one means of escape, Jareth turned to Tanya. "Miss Winderspire, may I have the honor of this dance?" It effectively shut up the mother and the shocked and pleased daughter. The girl gave her hand to the Goblin King, allowing him to take her to the dance floor.

Devon chuckled to himself and looked over at Della who didn't seem pleased with the situation. "Do you dance Della?" He asked hatching a scheme.

The Harpy looked at him at first as if he'd lost his Fae mind and she should end his pain. However she began to see something wicked in the eyes of the Baron and snickered herself. "I'm aware of the principals, and when I dance it's in the night air before a kill."

Duchess Winderspire shivered in revolution and moved quickly away from the pair.

"Good girl," Devon said softly to the Harpy as he tapped the Goblin on the shoulder. "Daisy, keep an eye on them. If it looks like it's becoming too much for our King, step in and break it up… I don't care what excuse you use."

The little Goblin female in her full armor nodded, already planning how to get her King out of the clutches of the Fae girl.

Devon turned to Della, "Dancing in the air sound delightfully dangerous."

The Harpy gave him a simpering smile. "Everything with a Harpy is dangerous… delightfully and other wise." She sighed; "Pity you'll never experience such danger, my Lord Baron."

Moving behind her, Devon patted her on her bottom. "A man can dream Della." He then strolled over to a distant cousin he'd not seen in some time to converse.

The Harpy had not expected the Baron to show such overt attention to her in public. She wore a grimace as he walked beyond where she could knock him down with a flick of her wings. The clearing of the throat of the little goblin at her side startled her back into the moment. "What?" she demanded gruffly.

"They play at games," Daisy warned softly. "He flirts with you because he knows you are safe."

"Are you trying to insult me?" Della growled.

"Not at all," Daisy said unimpressed with the show of the Harpy's teeth. She inclined her head toward the King, "He becomes Goblin… in thought word and deed… that one." She thumbed toward Devon. "Never will."

"Damned observant little shit, aren't you?" Della snickered.

Daisy wore a grin, ear to ear. "Damn right."

Half way through the waltz they were sharing, Tanya found her voice. "You're an excellent partner, far better than most of the young men here at court."

"Do you spend much time at court?" Jareth asked trying to sound polite.

"Not nearly as much as I'd like to," the girl confessed without hesitation. "I find the court very gay."

"As opposed to running errands for your Father?" Jareth found himself teasing the girl unexpectedly.

Tanya batted her lashes at him in what she'd been told was a very becoming way. "Running errands is not nearly as much fun as attending a court function… and you've yet to invite me to even one." She pouted again.

Jareth faltered a step, something he rarely did, and it perturbed him that this snippet had caused it. "My court's gatherings are not nearly as gay as these."

"I have heard differently," she protested ignoring that he was no longer paying attention to the steps of the dance. She had his full attention and that was what she wanted. "I've meet the Lady Rosalind, and she tells tales of a grand ballroom of crystal.."

Cursing under his breath, Jareth vowed to straggle Rosalind with his bare hands. "Does she?"

"And decedent abandon," teased the girl with a blush.

Both Goblin and Harpy guards were aware of the changes, the girl was casting her scent at the King and he was reacting like a hare looking for a hole to hide in. Jareth dropped his hands and stopped dancing. "Young lady, I doubt your father or your mother would approve of you discussing such things in public. Or do you wish to be just another fallen angel?"

Tanya sighed, "I mean no offence Sire."

"What goes on in that Crystal ballroom is not for good little girls." He snapped. "Lady Rosalind had no right to even intimate what goes on in that room."

Tanya looked up at Jareth; her eyes were not filled with sorrow, but with lust and longing. "I'd like you to teach me of what goes on there, Sire." Her voice was subdued and slightly muffled as she wanted only Jareth to hear her offer herself.

Jareth shook his head, "Tanya, this is not the kind of game you are use to… stick to being window dressing." Abruptly he turned and left her standing in the middle of the rest of the dancers. He snapped his fingers as he came close to where Della and Daisy stood. Della was passing a coin to the Goblin with a disgruntled look on her Harpy face. Daisy pocketed the coin looking triumphant. "I've grown fatigued; we will retire for the night." He announced.

Devon looked from the exiting King to the girl moving off the dance floor looking like a huntress. "Oh dear," he muttered. "Jareth, you've only given her fuel for her fires." He looked at the on going celebration and decided it was time to retire himself. Making his apologies he bid good night to the host and hostess and moved swiftly toward the wing he and Jareth were being housed in. He went to his rooms across the hall from those of the King, winking at the guards as he entered his chamber.

"Ten kopecks says she tries again." Daisy said confidently.

"She cannot be that stupid," Della protested.

"Put your money where your mouth is," Daisy suggested pleasantly.

Della's wings twitched, "Fine, ten says she stays away."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

"Striping?" Sarah repeated the word questioningly. "How much can a girl earn?"

Bryn shot a look at her; "You're not seriously thinking of that!"

Sarah hushed her and looked at Bear; "Well?"

He was sorry he and Snake had said anything. "Depends," his voice became serious. "A girl working at one of the big clubs can pull in a grand if she's… willing."

"Willing?" Sarah shook her head, not understanding.

"To perform sex acts, Sarah." Lilith said as if she was talking about the weather.

"That's out," Sarah held up her hands. "I could dance if I had to but…" she shuddered.

Lilith shook her head, "You can't, but I can."

Bryn gave a disgusted grunt, and looked away. "I'm with Sarah."

The Greek girl looked up at the pair of them. "If we all three pooled our cash, we could afford to make an offer on that place." She placed her hand on the bench beside Sarah, careful not to touch but close enough to feel her warmth.

"You didn't even see it!" Bryn snapped at her. "Snake is right, it's a hell hole! And I had enough hell with Daniels, thank you."

Bear looked at Sarah; her eyes were still contemplating the costs. "How much would a dancer make who just danced," she ignored the startled gasp of disbelief that escaped from Bryn and the gloating satisfaction painted on Lilith's smug face.

He took another drink, "I've a cousin who runs a club, The Hungry Hound… he pays his dancers who just dance five bills a night. Tips if they get any are their own; they don't have to divvy them up."

Sarah looked at Bryn, "I could dance," she stated. "You don't have to…"

"Hell," Bryn growled, "You don't really think I'm letting you and her," she pointed at Lilith who was foaming at the mouth over the thought. "Go into this without me, do you?"

Sarah looked at Bear, "Can you get us an interview?"

"Yeah, I suppose I could." Bear sighed. "But Sarah, think about it first. There could be somewhere better suited to your…needs."

"What the bitch needs I can give her." A gruff accented voice claimed. Everyone turned to look at the big Russian biker who was eyeing Sarah like she was a bowl of borsht. "Yuri can make all of the little princess's dreams come true." He smiled a toothy, albeit crooked, grin.

Sarah raised a brow, "Really?"

"You know it," he growled. "I make you dance like little slut monkey…" he began to wiggle his backside suggestively as he grinned.

Bear groaned and turned to speak to the biker, to send him back to the party still going on.

Sarah pursed her lips, "You're a big man eh?" he nodded and passed his hands over his bulge in his slacks. "And you're tough too?" He opened his arms inviting her to come to him. Sarah didn't leave the table; she picked up the crossbow, with a dart still in its quiver and calmly set it flying.

Yuri went to his knees as the dart connected with his groin. Bear blinked and could not help but start to laugh. "Good god, she shot him in the nuts." He watched as Yuri crumpled to his side in pain and embarrassment.

Bear grabbed Snake, "Get Harry, we'd best take stupid here to the emergency room."

"What are you going to tell them?" Snake demanded before moving. "That an eighteen year old virgin shot him in the nuts for being insensitive?"

Bear slapped him on the back, "Works for me."

Sarah put the cross bow down, and looked at the man writhing. "That was fun," she commented quietly.

Bryn looked at her, "You drew blood…. You're first kill so to speak… and on Solstice."

Watching as they dragged Yuri away to Harry's station wagon, Sarah murmured. "It was easy…" She looked at Bryn. "The year begins… and I draw blood…." She moved off the table so she was free to pace. "I have to have a place where I can hide… a place my family won't look for me… That stupid asylum is perfect."

Lilith looked at Bryn, "Sarah's right and you know it."

Bryn nodded, "I don't have to like it."

"No," Sarah agreed. "None of us have to like it… in fact I think Bear is going to hate it… Bear! I need to talk to you."

He had seen Harry off and now returned to where the girls were gathered. Bryn and Lilith on the table, Sarah pacing, "I get the feeling I'm not going to be a happy man." He sighed.

"If we can get the asylum, could you rent it for us?" Sarah asked. "I would prefer my name was not on a lease or a deed… I don't want a paper trail."

Snake had come to listen. "I've an idea… the Danvers place is not the only abandoned asylum here…. There's a smaller one… not far from here. It's not nearly as hellish, and it might go for less. And if we can use one of the buildings such as the garage, it would meet a need we have."

"What place?" Bear asked.

"Caberfae," Snake said quietly.

"Stag's head," Bryn murmured, catching Sarah's attention.

"Tell me about this place," Sarah moved toward Snake. "What's it like."

"It's even more remote than Danvers, it only has four buildings… including the garage. It's on about eighty acres give or take an acre surrounded by woods. You can't even see it from the road." Snake informed the girl. "And I know it would cost a lot less than what Danvers would."

"Problem," Bear said taking a seat again, and pulling Lilith to him. "It's on a ley line."

Sarah turned to Bryn, who answered. "Energy lines that run all over the planet… some converge and give a boost to magic users… Some say they are left over trails from the Fae, mystical roads to portals."

"Not a problem than, because that's just what we would need." She turned to Snake. "How soon can we go look at this place?"

Bear looked at Lilith, "I guess you'd better dress, baby… looks like we're going for a ride."

Lilith shimmied off and began to pull her clothes back on her body. "Sounds like fun… visiting an abandoned asylum after sunset…. What a great way to end the day."

What worried Bear was he was sure she meant it.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Upon reaching the relative safety of his chamber the Goblin King disrobed and shrugged into a silk robe to relax. Pouring a glass of wine, Jareth moved toward the wide doors opening onto his balcony. He sipped the vintage wishing he had not left the orb on the night stand at home. He would have liked the diversion of one of the more interesting dreams captured there. The dance with Tanya had set him on edge and now he wanted nothing more than to wind down, let everything go and relax. He let the cooling air of the evening caress his face as he closed his stormy eyes.

In the hall outside the King's chamber stood the Harpy and Goblin keeping watch. To pass the time Della struck up a conversation with the Goblin she had been paired with as guard for over a year now. "Do you have any hobbies?"

"Perfecting my sword skills," answered Daisy thoughtfully. "You?"

"No," she frowned. "Why do you work so hard at perfecting a skill you're already a master at?" She paced a bit, getting antsy and feeling some energy field moving.

Daisy was also aware of the movement, but kept the conversation going. "I never know when the King may have need of one of my talents."

"Such as?" Della wondered if her little Goblin companion were boasting. "Name one," she challenged.

"Castration," Daisy brandished her blade and made a swift movement than replaced the blade with a proud expression on her little face.

Della, flexing one talon and wiggling her sharp ends in the air said sarcastically. "Waste of good steel when one quick grab and yank will do the same job." She yanked at the air and grunted in satisfaction.

"I'm not looking for a snack," Daisy quipped. "Perhaps the King does not feed you birdies well enough… what kind of seed is it you like?" She felt the hackles on her neck raise. "Company," she whispered.

Della sniffed the air, "I'll be damned, the balcony." She muttered opening the King's door a crack to peep in. Beneath her the little Goblin maid peeped also, not wishing to be left out.

The cool air carried the girls perfume with ease and the Goblin King frowned as he opened his eyes and turned to the edge of the balcony. The unwanted guest was coming out of the shadows in what she thought would be a dramatic entrance. "Miss Winderspire, I don't recall inviting you to my chamber." His voice was edged with anger.

The girl knew the gentle breeze would move the gossamer sheer gown revealing her body. "Won't you call me Tanya, Jareth?" she pleaded prettily, "I should think you know me well enough after a year to use my name."

"No," he stated coldly. "I don't think so."

A few more steps and she were within one foot of him not daring to move closer without his permission. "I must confess that not all of my trips to your court were for my father alone… I find you…"

"Don't say another word," he groaned as if taxed to his limit. "You have no idea of what you're doing or where you are trying to go." He waved her off. "Go back the way you came and I'll forget you ever came here."

"I won't," Daisy whispered to Della; "That's ten kopecks if you please birdie."

"Greedy little runt," griped the Harpy as she passed the coins to her cohort.

"Think we should go rescue him?" Daisy asked softly looking again at the king as she pocketed more of the Harpy's pay.

"Not just yet," Della monitored the situation. "He's not having any trouble yet… and this is more entertaining than just standing guard."

"Agreed," quipped the Goblin leaning on the jam.

"Ten kopecks says he gets rid of her without our help," Della bet.

"Done."

The Fae girl giggled as he waved her off. "You don't really want me to leave, do you? Now when I put this on just for you," she said turning so he could see the transparency of her gown and her firm young body beneath it.

"Go away," Jareth said in antipathy turning his back on her and entering his chamber only to have her follow right behind him. He heard her foot falls and made a face. "Girl I'm not interested."

"I'm sure that can't be true," she cooed. "I have heard of your…appitite."

'I'll kill Rosalind when I get my hands on her!' he thought to himself, for he'd heard how the red haired beauty had boasted of games in the King's bed. He paused, pinched the bridge of his nose and turned to face the little nuisance of femininity. "Miss Winderspire, this is your last warning… don't push this any further."

She had backed him up to the bed and knew one good push at the right spot would send him crashing to the mattress. She pulled the cord that held her dress closed, it opened like a flower before she discarded it. "I long for you to teach me Jareth… the ways of love that you prefer. Accept me as your student…my King." She tugged on his robe's tie and pulled before shoving to send him to the bed. A moment later as she began her decent to his bed she caught herself in mid decent and began to scream. Grabbing her gown she wrapped it about her naked from and ran to the open door and the hall. She shoved the Harpy and the Goblin aside.

Devon nearly collided with her on her way out of the King's chamber. He watched her run down the hall barely covered by the filmy fabric of her gown. He turned to the sight of two guards falling on each other in peals of laughter before he entered the chamber. Jareth lay on the bed counting. Devon looked at his manhood and gasped.

Della called down the hall where the Fae girl had retreated, "Hey Lady! Didn't you ever see a spring loaded javelin?" She moved into the chamber and looked at the King. "Oh that was beautiful!"

"So glad you and your little buddy were entertained," Jareth said venomously. "A little help would have been nice."

"What, and spoil your… unveiling?" Daisy quipped as she passed coins back to Della. "I think not!"

Devon was still staring at the evil looking coil that was wrapped around his cousin's cock. "What is that?"

"They call it a cock coil," Jareth discreetly pulled the robe over his nakedness. "I had this one designed some time ago…"

"Is it painful?" Devon was still making a face.

"Not for the one wearing it," Jareth sat up hearing the commotion in the hall and the High King bellowing. "Here comes trouble."

Devon took a seat on the edge of the bed, "I'm sticking around for this."

Both guards parted allowing the High King but none other entry to the chamber. Oberon frowned and moved toward the bed. "That blasted girl is screaming loud enough to wake the dead… what did you do to her?"

"I never even touched her," Jareth said frowning. "She came here, uninvited and unwelcomed… and she tried to…." His façade of anger gave way to a smirk. "seduce me."

"She's waking the entire house," Oberon claimed. "There has to be a reason beside being refused…."

Devon cleared his throat, pointing down to the fabric covering the King. Jareth shoved him and he fell off the bed beginning to laugh uncontrollably. Oberon, using his body to block view from the door motioned his Goblin King to reveal to him what Devon was snickering about. Seeing the coil he rolled his eyes; "Great Goddess, what did you go and do?" He complained like a tired elder. "It's always something with you two… I suppose you have one as well."

"Not yet," Devon quipped.

Jareth covered himself again. "I had no intentions of sharing it with that… girl. She forced herself on me."

Oberon paused, snickered than laughed fully. "Oh I can hear the tales now."

"I'm going home." Jareth said quietly. "A man can at least get a good night's sleep there." He snapped his fingers to the two guards who were still tittering away. "Have everyone ready to go in an hour."

Oberon sighed, "I won't stop you… but do come again… I promise I'll make sure that girl stays far away…"

"She's on a mission, my King," Jareth frowned. "Her mother wants her to be my queen…"

"She's not a bad candidate." Oberon offered.

Jareth rose from the bed, shaking his head. "I've no love for her, or her family. They want a connection to your court, not mine."

Devon pulled himself off the floor. "A lovely party… we must do this again some time... perhaps you could come visit us…I'm sure we could arrange some entertainment that would be suitable."

Oberon glared at the young Baron. "I sent you to his courts to be a good influence on him. What happens? You two fall back into your old patterns of tomfoolery!" He cuffed both younger Fae.

"Hey, he's a King, I'm just a lowly Baron… I have to follow what he says…" Devon protested. "And I didn't ask for that assignment if you recall, Uncle."

The High King frowned, "I wish your mother had given you a sister, maybe then you'd understand my predicament." He thought of how his sister had badgered him and how he'd given in to gain a moment's peace.

Devon made a face, "I don't need or want a sister."

The High King looked at his own boy. "I would have preferred some time to be alone and talk…"

"Come see me at my court," Jareth offered.

"Yes, perhaps we will." Oberon looked toward the crowds in the hall. "Leave quietly."

Jareth nodded.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

That the gate to the place was unlocked had surprised Sarah. That Snake seemed to know his way about it didn't. "You've been here before." She stated.

"Yep," Snake admitted happily. "Both Bear and I grew up playing here. We used to sneak in here and camp out at the old quarry."

Bryn closed her eyes and let the energies slid over her as they flowed like a river. "It's good energy," she said in surprise.

Lilith looked at the main building. "Does it have a basement?"

"Yep, but you would have to be careful, it's hued outta rock down there. This is all limestone." He pointed about the land.

Bear looked at Sarah; "You're going to take it, aren't you?"

She nodded. "It's perfect," she agreed. "Want to go in with us?"

"Hell why not, least I can do is keeping the law off your trail." He scratched his cheek, "I think you ought to be careful in what you plan."

The girl looked at him, "It will take more than a year for me to get ready for what I plan… during that time I've an assignment for you, my friend." Sarah's voice hardened. "I want you to watch Doctor Daniels for me… I know he's not going to leave here… he's got unfinished business. And I don't want him to escape justice."

"Justice," questioned the big Greek man. "Or revenge Sarah?"

"A bit of both," she admitted. Moving toward the front of the building she nodded; "Yes, this will do…."

Bryn looked as a shooting star crossed overhead; she felt the chill in the air and was grateful for Snake's arm going over her shoulder. "Dancing huh?"

Lilith began to bump and grind to some song in her head, giggling.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12. Festering wounds**

Several of the bikers had come to the club to see the girls audition for Bear's cousin Paulo. While Lilith warmed up, Sarah took a seat beside Bear and whispered softly in his ear. "How's Yuri?"

Bear snickered, "Pissed." He smiled over at Sarah. "You nailed him good baby, took out his left nut clean!"

"Is he going to press charges?" Once more thinking like a lawyer's daughter, she had wondered if she should be getting a legal defense started.

Snake sitting behind them with Bryn scoffed loudly. "And admit he was shot by a girl, not bloody likely." He winked at Sarah, "I'm sure he's just glad you didn't get both nuts. Did you know where you were shooting or did you just shoot and let the chips fall where they may?"

"I always get what I aim for," Sarah said in a poignant tone.

Paulo took his seat, nodded for the music to start and motioned the rest to be still. Lilith sauntered out dressed in a borrowed leather outfit from the collection of costumes confiscated by Linda. Under the leathers was a tiger striped bikini peeping out and being tempting. Being fit and flexible served the girl well as she gyrated across the floor. She was clad in only the bikini bottoms by the time she finished her song. Paulo turned to his cousin questioningly; "Ari, are you sure you don't mind her doing this in front of a crowd?"

Bear shook his head, "I've nothing to say about it one way or the other, Paulo. Lilith is not my property….she belongs to herself."

A doubtful expression covered Paulo's face; "Ok, next girl."

Bryn rose to her feet and moved to where the other girl had been. The lighting was changed to a red spotlight and Bryn produced two huge fans with red feathers in various shades. She preformed her number, never having taken off a stitch and yet leaving the viewer with the impression she was stark naked.

Paulo applauded loudly, as he moved forward; "That was very imaginative," he complemented. "I've seen fan dancing before, but this was different…"

Bryn took a few deep breaths to center herself and whispered a thank you.

Paulo turned from the stage and looked at Sarah. "Are you ready?"

Walking past him Sarah muttered; "Ready or not, here comes mama." She took a provocative stance once she'd reached the stage and nodded to the man in the sound booth with the record she'd chosen. The hard hitting beat sounded and she spun around strutting and undulating in a manner that was more than suggestive. She sizzled, and Paulo gasped as she disrobed down to her bikini bottom as Lilith had.

It took Paulo a moment to speak but his words when they came out were firm and commanding. "I run a clean club," he informed them. "No drugs, no guns…I can start you three out at three bills apiece on the nights you dance. Tips, if you get em, are yours. If you are willing to do more than… stage dancing, that's a bit more cash in your pocket. I don't pay under the table," he warned. "I don't mess with the IRS or the local cops."

Lilith smiled. "When do we start?"

Paulo nodded, "Tonight… I need your information,… you three are all eighteen aren't you?"

"Yes," Lilith spoke for the group as Sarah caught her breath after her performance. "That's not a problem."

The manager of the night club looked at them, "And what Stage names do you want to use?" They gave him a blank stare, and he snickered. "All exotic dancers in this area go by a stage name, and keep their private lives just that…private."

"Tiger Lil'," Lilith said and called to the man in the sound booth, "Buddy; you got a copy of Hold that Tiger?"

Paulo wrote it down, and turned to Bryn. "And you, Red?"

"Firebird," Snake said for her.

Paulo wrote that down as well before turning to Sarah and waiting. Sarah looked at him and held her hand up to show she was thinking about it. She started to snicker and turned to them all, "Call me Goblin' Gert."

Bryn cautioned her against it, but Lilith crowed it was a grand idea as they headed toward the dressing rooms.

Paulo turned to Bear, "Ari, I'm doing this as a favor to you… after this we are even, right?"

"Keep telling yourself that Paulo," Bear murmured. "You might even come to believe it."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Della wondered if the stone tiles that the king kept pacing were likely to wear out. She understood anger, and enjoyed watching how he controlled his never allowing it to control him. He had waited for a few days after they had returned to the Goblin palace to call for the Lady Rosalind to come for an interview. Della leaned a bit toward Daisy who was also watching the King pace. "Ten says he throttles her," Della whispered.

"Ten says he lets her go with a warning." Daisy retorted.

Jareth ignored the pair of them, contemplating what to say to Rosalind when she showed. He was getting angrier as she was already more than half an hour late. Moments later she was escorted into the room Devon who'd been waiting for her at the entrance of the castle had escorted her to the Great Hall, and now stood back.

Rosalind smiled comely at her King. "My King," she dipped into a deep and graceful curtsey. "You wished to see me?"

"Do you like living her, Lady Rosalind?" the tone of the King's voice betrayed his mindset. It was cold and edged with bitterness.

Rosalind, to her credit and her long experiences with the Royals faced Jareth boldly. "If I didn't I would not be here." She saw that Devon was edging away. "What is this about Jareth? I don't have time for foolishness."

"Nether do I," he growled darkly. "What were you thinking woman? Why in the world would you start boasting to members of the High Court?"

Eyes wide with surprise Rosalind shook her head, "I've never boasted a word to any member of the High Courts… I'm not a fool…"

"No just a careless woman," Jareth spat out the insult as his eyes flamed.

Rosalind let him get out his venom, she didn't flinch nor did she protest. She stood quietly while the King railed at her. When he paused in his steady stream of insults she asked quietly. "Whom am I supposed to have spoken to?"

Jareth, the wind taken out of his sail, looked at her in disbelieve. "Were you not listening?"

"I heard every word," she assured him calmly. "Every word except whom I'm to have spoken to."

Devon was tapping a finger on his lips, "I fear she's right," he muttered. "You've not told her who."

Taking his seat in the throne, Jareth took a deep breath. "The daughter of the Duke Winderspire, one Tanya by name."

Making a sour face the read haired beauty grumbled. "Why would I bother? She's nothing to me, and boasting anything to her would not gain me a farthing." She placed her hands to her shapely hips. "Just what has she said I told her?"

"It's more a matter of what she did." Jareth growled settling into the throne.

Turning to Devon, Rosalind's face told him she expected more information. Devon clasped his hands behind his back, took a stance that was well balanced and began to inform the woman of the intrigue that had plagued the King at Avalon. Rosalind looked at Jareth with equal scorn for the young woman in question. "I never said a word to that impish baby… she must have over heard me speaking to someone else… and I never said a word about sneaking into your bed chamber…why would I? I'd have to admit that I never got to first base with you or this scamp here." She pointed to Devon. "Jareth, I've known you since before you became a King, and I have always thought of you as a friend. I would not do this." Putting two and two together Rosalind gasped. "Don't tell me that infant wants to be Queen, please don't tell me she's going to be."

"No," Devon murmured. "Jareth … wears a precaution that forestalled the little bitch in heat." He whispered in Rosalind's ear.

She looked at Jareth, giving him a wicked smile. "Do tell; I'd rather get a peep at that myself."

"Wench," Jareth's black mood abated. "Rosalind, if I've accused you wrongly forgive me."

She walked closer to the throne, holding out a hand. "Of course I forgive you, my King."

He held the hand. "Yes, the child wants to be Queen…no, I don't want her." He looked up and found her eyes to be filled with compassion, and he found that hard to take. "I have no desire at this time to complicate things by taking a Queen… and certainly not one who'd be spending more time at Avalon than here." He gripped the hand in his a bit tighter. "I'm afraid I have to ask you, do you intend on making this your home, and taking citizenship?"

The pretty red haired Fae shrugged, "Why not, I've been here for a few centuries… my house is lovely, and I've made a good many friends… Yes, I intend to stay." She turned to Devon, "Whom do I see about citizenship?"

"That would be me," he had a scroll already for her to sign, "My Lady." When the woman picked up an inked quill, Devon cautioned. "Don't you want to read it first?"

"No," she commented as she signed her name with a flourish. "I trust my King and his Lord Baron implicitly. She handed the scroll back to Devon before looking at Jareth again. "You have my loyalty and my friendship."

"I treasure both," Jareth said quietly. "And I would treasure your silence."

Daisy held her hand out, Della placed the coins in reluctantly.

Jareth lounged back in the throne, "I think it's time we had a party."

"Party?" Rosalind brightened up and became cheery. "Oh I do so love a good party, will there be dancing?"

"Of course," boasted the King.

Devon was looking at the court calendar, "I say, there's nothing here planed for Samhain…" He and Jareth exchanged glances. "A masked ball!" they both said in unison. "We could invite the High King and Queen… show off the court a bit."

Rosalind took a seat on the steps of the dais. "Oh do let me help with something." Both men looked fondly at her. She thought to herself, if she could not be a Queen or a Baroness, she could at least be a close friend... and perhaps that was better.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

During the long hot weeks of summer the nights at the Hungry Hound were even hotter. Lilith danced with complete abandon, sometimes going down to nothing at all and disappearing in to a dark room afterward. Sarah didn't ask or think about what it was Lilith did. She and Bryn were more discreet about their dancing. Never once did Sarah see Bryn go off with anyone, not even Snake who seemed so sweet on Bryn.

Only once was there a bit of trouble, and Sarah took care of it at once. A biker from out of town tried to grab her when she came off stage. He backed her against a wall and clearly thought she was fair game. She removed his own switchblade from his belt and held it to his groin and asked if he was aquatinted with Yuri. Realizing who this was he'd backed into a corner; he backed off with his hands raised and no weapon on him. Sarah handed him the blade and told him to spread the word to keep hands off her.

By the end of August the girls had accumulated more than enough money for the first down payment on the asylum. They had pooled the cash in a fund that was dubbed the Banshee Fund. All the checks and tip money went into it as well as cash from the bikers. Snake had made the contacts, telling the owners of the property that it would make a great recording studio for the Heavy metal group they were forming. The realtor, wanting to get it off inactive rolls, bought the lie hook line and sinker.

The estate was large enough to accommodate one and all. One building was designated to the bikers, and it also housed a garage that would accommodate the little car that Sarah's father had given her shortly after graduation. One building was set aside as it sat directly in the center of the ley line. It had been the main building housing an almost dungeon in the lower level. This was designated Sarah's building. She began to draw the things she was going to need to complete her work. She designated the upper floors to being left empty, and the lower floor as her staging area. Needing a place to escape to, the girls designated what had been the directors' house as a home base. Each of them had bedrooms in the house, but Lilith wanting to score points with Sarah said that the master suite should be Sarah's. Bryn had no objections as she didn't want that room anyway. It was in this room that Sarah hung her painting of the Dragon and the Crane.

From Monday morning, though Friday afternoon, they lived their lives as if they were ordinary girls. Come Friday afternoon they would pile into the car drive to the Hungry Hound where they were now storing the costumes they designed and would perform. From the Hound they would drive to the asylum. It had not taken as long as they had thought it would for the place to become livable. The house the girls were using was in good repair and had no broken windows. There were no nosey neighbors snooping or trying to give unwanted opinions. The bikers had contacts all over the area who owed them favors. Work and equipment was handled on a barter system. By the time the end of September rolled around the place was beginning to run like a well oiled machine.

Sarah came down to the kitchen in a half tied bath robe to find Snake drinking coffee and talking seriously to Bryn. She smiled a half awake grin taking a seat and nodding when asked if she cared for a cup. Snake looked at Sarah and cleared his throat, "They're tearing down the old Court house over in Dutch Hill, and a buddy of mine asked if I wanted to work on the salvaging crew…."

Sarah looked at him; "Sounds like hot, hard, dirty work… does it pay well?"

Bryn urged him to continue. "Well see, we'll be part of a dismantling crew… taking out the iron bars of the jail cells…."

Head snapping to attention and now suddenly quiet fully awake, Sarah gasped as the coffee went down her throat. "Iron bars?"

"You want em? I can get em for you…" Snake said keeping his voice quiet.

Her hand reached out, almost touching his sleeve before she pulled it back just as swiftly as it had extended. "Yes," she groaned darkly. "Yes!"

Snaked nodded, "You got any idea of where you're going to need this… cell?" He sipped his coffee again.

"I've an idea in my head, I don't know if it will work." Sarah confessed to the man. "I wish I knew about structures and such."

Snake looked around and leaned closer, "I do… don't tell anyone but I've got family in the building trades… I learned to read a blue print before I learned to read words." He teased. "I bet I can even get a hold of one of the old prints on file for this place. My uncle is the recorder down at the county seat." He snickered good naturedly. "I can tell them I need the specs for changes we wish to make for the recording studio."

"When are they tearing down the building?" Sarah asked more than interested.

"This week, I'd have to be on hand Monday through Thursday. My buddy figures it'll take a day and a half to dismantle the jail. How big do you want the cell you're thinking of for here?"

Sarah stood up to pace, "I don't know… has to fit a full grown man… maybe a cot… "

"Cells range in size from 7 feet wide to 10 feet 8 inches or 14 feet…" Snake informed her, when she shot him a worried look he laughed. "No Sarah, I have not been behind bars… My grandfather and my great uncle helped build the prison over in Claggstack. You know I bet I can get not only the bars but the furnishings for the cell as well. It will make everything fit together."

"I want a free standing cell; I don't want it touching any walls in the chamber." Sarah said thinking aloud.

"Putting cells against walls give them stability," Snake argued.

"Too ease to escape. I want the iron bars surrounding my….prey." Sarah grumbled.

"I have my uncle look up the prints for this place, and make a copy for me. I get them when the crew breaks for lunch and then you and I can go over them next week end… I'll have all my suggestions and notes. How's that sound?"

Sarah nodded, "Okay." She sighed.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Jareth heard the ideas that both Devon and Rosalind had been suggesting. He looked at the lists and frowned. "Rosalind, have you forgotten what Kingdom it is you live in?" He tossed the list over the side of the desk and gave her a frown. "I don't see one Goblin name on your guest list, and this party is in their home!"

Devon picked up the papers. "Jareth, this list is not the full list. It's only the Fae list, I have the Goblin list, and _**we **_would _**not**_ forget them."

The Goblin King shook his head, "I need air," he muttered moving past them toward the terrace followed by his Goblin and Harpy guards.

Rosalind kept still until the man was well out of ear shot, she then turned to Devon. "What was that all about?"

"I wish I knew," Devon admitted to his long time friend. "He's strung tighter than a lute these days."

The pretty Fae woman pouted, "I get the feeling he's not at all in favor of this party, and it was his idea."

Devon shook his head. "No, it's something else. Something he can't even name." He placed the papers on the desktop. "Things are going so well here; he can't help but be pleased. Look at how quickly he's turned things around… and the Goblins are responding… NO… he'd be pleased and proud to show all that off… It's something else Rosalind…"

"Should we continue with the planning?" She asked unsure of what to do.

The Lord Baron squared his shoulders, "I say yes," he motioned her to continue with the seating arguments she'd been working on. "Remember Jareth wants the Goblins in attendance spread out with the Faes. Not pushed off into some corner... Oh and be sure the high table is on a stander of some kind, raised above the rest." He returned to the work he was doing. "We've got four weeks to get the Grand Ballroom ready."

"I don't see why he does not just hold this _**Fête**_ in that crystal ballroom he's so proud of," Rosalind groused yet again. "It would be so much more impressive than in the Grand Ballroom..." Her eyes got a distant far off look to them. "Why I cannot recall the last time he held a ball there."

Devon recognized the signs, and knew that Rosalind had been one of the Fae witnesses to the disasters that had ended in that crystal ballroom. Quickly he changed the subject, "Rosalind, do you have the list for the wine selection?"

Jareth leaned on the balustrade rail, looking down into the garden that had begun to show signs of the season. Della stood on one side, Daisy on the other; both were watching him carefully and waiting. He looked at Della whose eyes were nearly level with his own. "What?" He asked sharply.

The Harpy, not one to hold her tongue grinned. "On the Rag Fae boy?" she snickered. Daisy shook her head, eyes trying to warn her partner.

For a moment, the briefest of seconds, it looked as if the King would strike her down. The moment passed and the King let go a long exasperated groan. "Damn," he muttered. He looked at his faithful guards, and shrugged. "I wish I knew…"

"Perhaps you perceive something… like a forewarning;" Suggested the little Goblin warrior. "Perhaps the King is sensing danger."

"If I am, which I doubt, it's not to me or the Kingdom… I don't think." He muttered, feeling an itchy feeling where he could not scratch. "It's like having little bits of electricity dancing on me."

Della shuddered; "Yuck."

"Sire," Daisy got an idea and was not ecstatic about broaching a subject the King rarely discussed. "Have you checked on the detail that is watching…" swallowing hard she said very quickly; "The boy?"

Della mouthed behind the King's back, 'What boy,' As Jareth turned around to look downward at the diminutive Goblin. His face was grimly set, and his eyes held little flames in their depths. "No," he growled. "I have not."

"Perhaps you should." Daisy stood her ground.

Jareth closed his eyes, "I suppose it could do no harm," he commented as if making an observation on the state of his garden, or the weather. He looked over his shoulder at the office he'd exited and the pair still hard at work on the festival he was hosting. "But not here, and not in there… this is private."

"The Goblin Throne room," Della suggested coyly.

Again observing the pair working Jareth nodded, motioning the pair of guards to follow him toward a door that opened to one of the corridors of the palace. From there they moved swiftly toward the circular throne room that was now reserved for Goblin business alone. He focused and called forth the Goblin who'd reported to him on the first incident with the little boy Jareth publicly forgot, but secretly worried over. "Come to me, Tonti." He called out on the four winds.

The little Goblin bowed to his King as he materialized in the chamber. Goblins had very simple use of magic; it got them from here to there and kept them safe in the passing through. But unlike Royal Fae and higher level Fae they seemed a bit clumsy in the use of magic. Unsteady for a moment, Tonti teetered and looked like he would collapse. "You called for me, Sire?"

Jareth had noticed that the rough edges of the Goblins and what most took for poor language skills seemed to be dissipating like fog in the Goblin community. "Tonti, is everything…alright with the boy?" Jareth sat holding the sides of the great throne.

"For a long time it has been… however, Sire. In the last few months we've felt a shift." Tonti reported thoughtfully.

"What has changed?" Jareth asked. "I too have sensed a… shift as you call it."

"We don't know… but we are on edge, and prepared." He placed a hand on a tiny dagger at his side. "We vow no harm will come to your boy."

"My boy," Jareth questioned softly.

"Your boy," Tonti nodded swiftly. "He smells of Goblin."

Jareth's face softened at the memory of holding the lively child who had reached out for his face. He could still recall the faint odor of the baby power and soapy freshness that was part of that memory. That and the red and white striped footed sleeper; "My boy," he sighed softly before issuing an order to the leader of the guards protecting the human child. "Be aware, something is coming… keep a close watch on the child, should anything… and I mean anything, threaten him… act swiftly to protect him. You have my permission to use force if need be. Remember you are Goblins, you don't have to play…fair. Just keep the boy… safe."

Tonti bowed and disappeared as if he'd never been in the circular chamber. Della tapped the King on his shoulder and asked. "What boy?" While Daisy groaned in frustration.

"Harpy memory was not touched," Daisy said to the King. "They were not actively involved in the… incident."

Jareth rose from the throne, "I have to see the court scribe, Daisy bring Della up to speed…" He vanished from the room in a swirl of glitter, something he'd not done in a while.

Della waved an arm to scatter the glittering specks on the air. "What boy?" she demanded again.

Daisy took a seat on the steps of the throne, "Sit down, this is a long and complicated tale… it begins with a girl who wished away her baby brother."

"Many have done that," Della growled with annoyance and with irritation. "What makes this one different?"

"Because of what no one knew…" Daisy sighed as she remembered. "There was this girl, Sarah… and she…."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Jareth materialized in the library and called out sharply. "Lutin I need to see you!" He placed balled fists to his hips. "Now!"

The Scribe entered from an antechamber where he was working on one of the rolls of scrolls. "Yes?"

"Lutin, during the visit of that… girl… did anything unusual happen that would cause the child we returned to… smell of Goblin?" The King's voice was terse and waspish.

Lutin blinked, "He was here the full thirteen hours," he was recalling then moved swiftly to the room containing the scroll on the event in question. "Let me see," he sighed as he moved a long finger down the written record. "He came with the Goblins and was escorted to the throne room where he was given bread and milk…"

Jareth shrugged, "I'm not in a custom to deny any child nourishment."

Lutin looked up, "I know that, but Sire, we've never returned a child to the mortal realm…" He moved toward another room to retrieve another scroll. "Not one we've fed at least. There was a case in the days of Bogal, the merciful… he returned a child who had been wished away… but that was only moments later…" He compared notes. "This child, the one who smells of Goblin… he eat the food of the realm… and he breathed our air… and… he was kept company with Goblin…"

"I gave him a bottle of milk as well… he was very hungry." Jareth recalled softly smiling at the memory of the loud burp that had erupted afterward. "What of it?"

Lutin looked at the King as if he had lobsters crawling out of his ears. "Sire, the _**Persephone**_ cannon," he gently reminded the Fae.

Jareth felt his knees buckle, as the full force of the truth struck him. "He smells of Goblin, because he is now in truth part Goblin."

Lutin nodded. "He's your subject, even if he's not in the Kingdom."

Taking a seat Jareth covered his face with his hands and groaned. "Lutin, what of the girl…"

Lutin read further down on the record, "I would say the same holds true of _**her**_ as well."

Jareth placed both his hands on the table with the scrolls. "Not a word of this leaves this chamber… not even to my Lord Baron…" he warned. "Tell me, can they… exist in that world? Can they live out their lives there?"

"Of course, Goblins live in both realms," Lutin stated without reservation. "However, should one or both of them return here for any reason… they will become full citizens, and be required to… live here."

The table went flying across the room, as the King roared. "I will never have that bitch in this kingdom again!"

Lutin went silent, feeling it best not to aggravate the King beyond what he was.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Sarah looked at the cage as it was assembled, her face twisted with an evil grin. "It's looking real good Snake."

Snake didn't look at her, not wishing to be distracted from the efforts of keeping the cage from falling apart as he bolted it together. "It'll be stable at least," he commented.

Bear held two sections together as the other bolted them. "Wait until you see the top he's come up with."

Lilith bit her lower lip; her expression was one of excitement. Bryn looked worried. "This is going to be rough on what ever you stick in there."

"That's the idea," Sarah stated without guile.

Bear stood back once the last two sections were bolted to the floor as well as to each other. "Now the top;" He winked over at Sarah, as he and the other man raised a separate section of bars over the sections that formed the cage, locking it on with iron clamps that were set up on both pieces.

Sarah giggled. "Nothing could escape that, and the door, it's got a iron lock?"

"Yep," Snake nodded as he brushed his hands on the sides of his jeans. "Only the bed is not made of iron."

"Good," Sarah said aloud. 'I want to hurt him, not kill him outright.' Thoughts of Jareth suffering brought her a feeling of warm contentment.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Three days before the festival Devon encountered Della and Daisy in one corridor arguing bitingly over some issue related to the guests. He listened for a few moments.

"I'm telling you," Della snapped waspishly. "No female is that stupid!"

"I'm telling you, she's determined." Daisy's voice rose sharply.

Della's talons tore at a little velvet purse hanging off her harness. "Fifty Kopecks says she stays away."

"Fifty says she comes and tries to romance the King!" Daisy pulled a matching bag off her belt.

"I want a piece of the action!" Devon's voice behind them alerted them to his presence.

Della regarded him with a cold glare. "Oh do you now?"

"Yes," he handed Daisy fifty Kopeck coins and turned to Della, "However I wish to sweeten the pot." The Harpy snickered at his brazen flirting. "And just what do you have in mind, my Lord Baron?"

"I agree with Daisy… you two are referring to a certain young Fae Lady, if I'm not mistaken. Daisy is right, she's determined; if she shows up and romances the King… you have to let me teach you to…dance." He moved about as if already he'd won, with a grin a mile wide.

Startled but amused at the same time, Daisy turned to see how the Harpy would react.

Della flexed her talon, glared and growled. "Done, but if perchance I win, you have to run naked though the halls cawing like a crow."

"Done," Devon extended his hand to her, when she placed her clawed talon in his hand he pulled her swiftly forward until they were eye to eye. "I hope you like dancing, birdie."

Not to be outdone, she retorted. "I hope you don't easily catch cold, Baron."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Karen was finishing the stitches on Toby's little costume for his first real Trick or Treating. She had enjoyed making the little knight's costume, and it was going to look precious on her little boy. The day was warm, and so few would be this way soon, so she sat on the porch watching Toby as he rode his little tricycle back and forth on the sidewalk in front of the Victorian. The phone ran and Karen placed the costume down on the chair, "Toby, stay right here where I can see you." She called as she opened the screen door to enter the foyer where the phone was. She picked up the phone, turned to look out the door to see a man in a dark suit trying to yank the boy off his bike. She screamed and dropped the phone.

They had seen it coming, the dark car that had pulled forward as the mother turned to the door. They had seen the man leap out and reach for the boy, they had heard the scream. And they had leapt to action. Each of them keeping stealthy so none of the mundane who were now running to aid the mother and child would see them. They attached the man, forming an invisible shield to surround the boy. People were screaming, the boy was yelping like a frightened pup. The man being attacked by invisible blows growled in frustration. Seeing his plot foiled, he made a mad dash for the car ordering the driver to speed off. Karen reached Toby and pulled him into a motherly embrace. The unseen protectors formed a shield to include the mother. Neighbors were shouting and coming from down the block. But it was already over.

Karen franticly called the police to report the attempted kidnapping. Franticly she then called Robert, who had gone into the office for a few hours this peaceful Saturday morning. She was still in tears when the phone unexpected rang.

"Karen, is everything okay? I just got the strangest feeling…." Sarah's voice greeted her stepmother.

"No," Wailed Karen still holding the boy tightly. "Someone just tired to kidnap Toby."

"Describe him," the girl demanded.

Karen was not sure why Sarah assumed it was a man, but she didn't really care. She began to relate the details she recalled, including the car. "Sarah, I've never been so … scared…" she whimpered.

Staying calm and feeling like she wanted to disembowel something, Sarah spoke to the woman on the other end in a commanding tone. "Lock the doors, and don't let anyone but the police and daddy in. I'll call later." Sarah hung up the phone and overcome with rage went out to the open green of the compound and screamed like a banshee, dropping to her kneens.

Snake heard the shriek, as did Bear and Lilith and even Bryn. The other bikers who were in the garage working on machinery dropped their tools and followed Snake swiftly to where Sarah stood with blood coming from where her nails had pierced her palms. Bear and Lilith arrived moments later, with a circle forming about Sarah. Bryn knelt down, not touching Sarah but being supportive.

"What's happened?" She asked quietly.

Sarah looked up, the green in her eyes now dark and angry. "Daniels just tried to abduct my kid brother."

Lilith gasped as Bryn stayed calm. "Are you sure it was him?"

"Karen just described him to me…" growled the infuriated witch. "Yes, I'm sure." She stood up, blood still oozing from her balled hands. "He's gone too far, now we end it." She opened her hands and the blood pooled in her wounds.

Lilith smiled, "Sarah, what do you want us to do?"

"I want him, here…. I want to give that bastard a taste of his own medicine." The girl growled in an unsteady voice.

"We're not ready," Bryn cautioned.

"He's not magical Bryn…" Sarah argued. "I don't need a year to prepare for what I'm going to do to him… and not just for Toby… Toby is just the last straw…" She was seething. "I want to get even with that fiend for what he did to you, and Lilith and Marge and all the other girls… for what he tired to do to me… and God knows what he wanted to do to poor little Toby." She began to rock back and forth, feeling like she'd explode. "I want his blood."

Bear looked down at Lilith who was aroused and excited by Sarah's show of anger and intent. He knew better than to interfere, and to a greater extent found himself agreeing with the girl. "Tell us what you want," he moved forward. "He touches you, he deals with us."

Sarah looked at the bikers surrounding her. "Bring him to me… I don't care how you get him here, but bring him here... alive." She turned to Snake. "I hope that birdcage you put together is strong."

"It is," he assured her. "You want the treatment table, and chair?"

"I found some restraints in the store room," another biker offered. "You might put them to good use."

Sarah looked over; it had been Yuri making the suggestion. She raised a brow, and nodded. Turning to Bear she asked darkly. "Any way you can get a hold of some of the same kinds of drugs that bastard used on us?"

"Give me the list," he said slipping into his leather jacket. "I'll go shopping."

Within fifteen minutes after the alarm sounded, bikers moved out of the compound on separate missions while Yuri helped Snake get the chamber ready for its first visitor. Sarah turned to her companions. "We need to prepare… can't be receiving our guest dressed like this."

Bryn warned her. "Sarah he's going to recognize us."

"Not if we are masked." She replied stalking back to the upper floor of the house they were using. "We've got all kinds of shit in the costumes my mother sent. Surely there are at least three masks."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Jareth felt the tingle, and moved with his guards to the circular chamber. "Tonti?" He arrived as the little Goblin did. "What has happened?"

"Someone tired to take our boy, we stopped him!"

Jareth roared, letting his anger fill the chamber. "Find whoever did this!"

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

The car that held Doctor Daniels was surrounded by bikes and forced off the road. The driver was knocked out with a small club. The man in the back seat was tied up and dragged away after a hood was placed over his head. He was placed into the back of a van, and driven away. He had no idea of which way they had gone, there were many twists and turns taken.

When he was pulled from the van he was forced to walk, still in the hood. Once inside a building he was taken to a room and forced to sit down, his hand were unbound only to be bound again by the restraints of the chair he was seated in. The hood was violently removed, and he was squinting at three young females in black leather, with leather masks covering eyes and noses, revealing only their red painted lips. The one in the center smiled and he felt ice go through him.

"Welcome to Hell," the one in the center said invitingly. She wore the mask of a demon.

"The hour of retribution has arrived," the one on the right stated firmly, wearing a wolfs image over her face.

"Any last words," asked the one on the left, this young woman wore the mask of a tiger.

Daniels struggled against the restraints, bulking, barking at them to free him or pay for their misdeeds.

The one in the center who was not in the least impressed moved forward. "We are your judges."

"Your crimes are many," said the wolf.

"Your victims are countless scores of innocents," the tiger growled darkly.

"You have abused your position." The demon cracked a whip she'd taken off her belt, the end of which kissed the lobe of the man's ear.

"You have betrayed your vocation," the wolf said as the demon cracked the whip again this time striking the other ear.

"You have broken your vows to heal," the tiger said as a third crack of the whip glanced the man's cheek leaving a red welt.

Daniels turned to look at the man standing behind him, gasping as he saw the man wore an executioner's hood. "You have no right to kill me," he screamed.

Another man also hooded rolled a cart to where the women stood. The demon picked up a syringe, squirted it lightly in the air to remove any air from the needle. "We have no intentions of letting you off with just death, Doctor Dylan Daniels." The tiger and the wolf also picked up syringes. "We intend to show you what you've done." The first needle went in and was empted into the screaming man. Then the second, and finally the third, over and over and over again.

Soon the man was babbling, Sarah removed her mask, "I warned you to leave me and mine alone."

Bryn took the man's face into her hands after tossing the wolf mask aside. "You raped me you sick bastard! You were supposed to help me, not attack me!"

"You are nothing more than a fucking monster!" Lilith jabbed one more needle into the man; "May you rot in hell."

Snake and Bear removed their masks, Sarah looked at Bear worriedly. "You're sure the side affects of all this will push him over the edge?"

"Yep," the Greek man nodded.

"Get him out of my sight," Sarah ordered crossly.

"You want me to drop this trash in the woods and let him wander?" Bear asked.

"Just make sure it's far from here, and no where near Toby." Lilith answered for Sarah.

Bryn looked at Snake. "What about his driver?"

"All he'll know is some wild group of bikers ran him off the road." Bear assured them. "We've no reason to hurt him… he's just a lackey." He pulled the now restrained man from the chair. "I'll put out the garbage."

Sarah looked at the tip of her whip, "I've bloodied myself."

"We share in this," Lilith cooed lovingly.

Bryn looked at Sarah. "How do you feel?"

"Vindicated," Sarah said tossing the whip down. "And ready to take on a Goblin King."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

The King was pacing awaiting word; Della looked to Daisy who shook her head. Neither spoke, they understood their presence was enough. No others were in the circular chamber with Jareth; he had bared even Devon from being here. When Tonti appeared the King saw he seemed taken aback. "Did you find the culprit?"

Tonti nodded, "We did… sort of…" The King looked at the Goblin, motioning him to speak on. "Someone got to him first… some mortal… or other… but…he won't be harming or going after anyone's child anytime soon." Tonti had seen what was left of the evil man; a babbling fool; who spoke of demons and wolfs and tigers, and of vengeance.

Jareth, King of the Goblins drew a long held breath. "So much the better…let his blood be on mortal hands and not ours… Go, protect the boy… see to it he is at peace."

After the Goblin vanished, Della mused. "Better for whom?" She flexed her talon. "I should have liked to exercise my claws."

Daisy drew her trusty blade, "I should have liked to give the Bird here a tasty treat…."

Jareth smirked at both; "Now really, what with the arrival of the High King? I'd have a hell of a time explaining the screaming and all that blood." He yawned, "I'm off to my bed…" He vanished in a mist. Upon entering the bed chamber he was surprised to find the little dream orb filled with a strange red glow. "What the hell is that?" He asked as he took a seat on the bed. "I don't recall even turning you on." He waved his hand and the orb went dark and silent. "I have too much on my mind," he told himself aloud. "I don't have time for maidens' dreams." Again he yawned as he fell back into the bed. "I've the High King's arrival to prepare…." He closed his eyes and drifted off into sleep.

Slowly the orb began to grow light again, and continue the dark dance of mists in it's center.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13. Setting the traps**

Great excitement accompanied the arrival of the High King and his royal entourage. It had been centuries since his last visit, and the first time that he and his court were coming for a festival. Rosalind had seen to all the arrangements for their rooms and their comforts. She'd enjoyed the fact that she could plan this elaborate _**Fête**_, and not have to worry over paying for it. Although Philo was not very receptive to what he considered interference in his running of the house, she soon charmed him as well. Even to the point of having him agree to new uniforms in keeping with the new attitude of the King. Devon was impressed with the changes Rosalind had suggested.

Jareth looked at the severe garments his tailor had brought for him. The military styled dark wool Jerkin buttoned up the front to a high collar that was trimmed in shiny brass braid and buttons with owls in flight. His once wild hair, now tamed was handsomely combed and pulled back into a fashionable _queue_ that even Devon envied. His leather gloves had been traded for soft Kidd of a soft dove gray that matched the shirt under his jacket. The breeches were the same dark midnight blue as his jacket and fit like a second skin. His boots were fitted to his legs giving a long slender look and support; they were dark and buffed not polished. Stepping back he looked at his reflection before turning to Rondo who held the Goblin circlet on a pillow. He placed the handsome metal work on his head with thought-provoking somberness. 

Devon entered the King's chamber unannounced, "I see you're nearly ready," He commented as he strode forward casually. His own dress reflected that of the King, although he didn't have nearly as much braid on his jacket. He wore a short half cloak attached with a chain to his uniform. "Impressive," he commented standing behind the cousin who was more like a brother; he smirked in the same haughty manner as the King.

Jareth nodded, "Oberon will be impressed."

"As will the rest of his royal party…" Devon flicked imaginary dust off one of the King's showy epaulettes. "You'll have the women drowning in drool."

"Spare me," Jareth groaned.

Devon rested his hand on the shoulder he'd been playing with. "Cousin, you have me worried." The teasing was gone, only concern remained. "When was the last time you were… with a woman?"

"Does it matter?" Jareth adjusted his cuffs irritated with the invasion into something he'd worked to keep private.

"Yes," Devon sighed coarsely. "I think it may." He pulled at the shoulder knowing the rest of the king would turn as well. "When was the last time you had a woman?"

"We have gone wenching together, or have you forgotten?" Jareth side stepped.

"No, I have not forgotten…" Devon's blue eyes darkened. "As I recall, I was the only person who went upstairs with a wench… you stayed downstairs, and that's where I found you the next morning…. So… cousin, how long?"

"Devon, this is really none of your concern." Jareth's voice dropped an octave.

"It is if you're going celibate on me."

Jareth snickered at the thought, "I am not going celibate." He gently removed his cousin's grip on his shoulders. "What I am doing is concentrating on the Kingdom, for now."

Unconvinced, Devon sighed. "Promise me that is all it is, and I'll leave it lie for now."

"That's all it is." Jareth said charmingly before turning his cousin toward the door. "We have guests arriving… and a full day of events to attend to. Now let us be off… You know how Oberon hates to be kept waiting."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Sarah found her concentration intervallic and sporadic at best on the morning of Samhain. By the time noon had arrived she was certain she would not be able to think on anything as mundane as classes. She had barely made it through the History class without jumping out of her skin, and it had been hopeless in Modern Poetry. She was certain Math would be a lost cause. She was not surprised to find both Bryn and Lilith awaiting her on the quad. "I have to get out of here." She said firmly.

Bryn had witnessed her antsy state. "It's only one more class," she tempered.

Lilith scoffed. "Math, who needs it… the car is packed, we thought to do it last night. Let's just blow this pop stand and head to the chamber…. It's our first Sabbath… we should prepare." She was sounding like an authority.

It was Bryn who knew the Greek was just making noise. "Preparing is a good thing." She looked at Sarah. "Are you really sure you want to go through with this?"

"I'm committed," Sarah stated with determination. "I started this path, and down it I must travel."

"Thick and thin," Lilith said gazing at the other with adoring eyes.

Bryn experienced the now familiar queasiness that accompanied one of Lilith's attacks of lustful adoration. "Thick and thin," she replied more concerned over Sarah than over Lilith. "Would you like me to drive, Sarah?"

Sarah handed her keys to the little Dodge Omni her father had given to Bryn, thinking the redhead looked better sitting in the driver's seat of the red hatchback. Bryn was the only other person she'd allow to drive the car, she refused to allow Lilith anywhere near the drivers seat.

Lilith sat corkscrew in the front seat talking to an unresponsive Sarah for the first ten minutes before Bryn hushed her. "She's thinking, leave her be." She ignored the insolent expression on Lilith's face that went to a pout for the rest of the journey to the compound.

Sarah was not surprised to find some of the bikers there even though it was only Tuesday. On weekends there could be upward of sixty bikes roaming the estate or racing up and down the winding roadway. A good number of the boys who rode with Snake and Bear were now taking up residence and there was a constant presence there. Waving to some of the regulars as they passed them on the winding drive, Sarah began to feel more at ease. She mused it must because the closer she got to the ley lines the better she felt, it was as if she were drawing strength and energy from the field while Lilith seemed even more hyper than usual. Sarah made a note to keep Lilith at a distance; her very nearness caused the dreamless girl pain at times.

Bryn waved a hand to the men who were coming across the lawn toward the car. Bear called out, "I didn't expect you until after four…We don't have the bale fire set up yet, and I thought I had more time."

"Sarah needed to get out of Dodge," Lilith quipped running to the open arms of the man she used as release for what she could not get from Sarah.

Snake moved closer, "Sarah, are you feeling better?"

"Much," she admitted as he went passed her to help Bryn unload the car. "Is everything but the Bale fire ready?"

"Yep," Snake answered loading up his arms with the items he felt were too heavy for the girls to lug. "Everything is set for stage one."

Bryn placed a hand on the man's arm, "Sarah, why don't you go lie down and Snake and I will set up what we've brought." She motioned toward Bear and Lilith who were already engaging in sexual foreplay. "I don't think Lil is going to be much help right now."

"Thank Bryn; I think a short rest will do me good." Sarah moved toward the house.

Snake waited to speak until he and Bryn were safe in the chamber. "How is she really?"

"Not good… she's always on edge when we're not here and Lil keeps after her like a bee attracted to a flower." Bryn grumbled as she began to place candles in the right positions. "Lil's in for a rude awakening, I fear."

"Bear will be there for her to fall back on," Snake handed the girl each of the items as she pointed to them. "She's like a cat; she'll land on all fours… and come up scratching…" He looked at the girl with her long hair coiled over her head. "It's you I'm more worried about."

"Don't be," she whispered. "I know my fate is tied to Sarah's, I've known since the moment she and I met."

"I would fall for a girl who could not be had," he gripped. "Ah well, just part of being part Greek…. tragedy is a way of life."

Pausing in her work, the Welsh fledgling witch looked at him with empathy. "Snake, I…"

"Oh for God and Goddess sake, Bryn… No pity…" He handed her the last item from what they'd carried in. "I could not endure it."

"No pity...just maybe a bit of wishing for what might have been." Changing her expression she stuck her tongue out at him. "Go fix a tire or something." She waited until he'd sauntered out of the chamber to allow her feelings of sadness and a touch of regret to fill the room.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Oberon and his court stepped into the Goblin Realm via a portal the High King had opened. They appeared exactly where Jareth had planned for them to, and they were given a proper reception. Jareth stood at the center of the welcoming committee, flanked by his Harpy and his Goblin guards. Devon stood directly behind the King with the ministers and officials; he was the only one who saw the look of scandalized outrage on Della's chiseled features as the High King's party moved forward. He also heard the grunt she allowed to pass, and suppressed the urge to laugh as he saw his cousin stiffen.

Plain as day, in the midst of the ladies in waiting to the High Queen stood the young Miss Winderspire. She was dressed in High Court fashion, and was most likely the youngest of the ladies with the Queen. On her face was a wisp of a smile, and in her eyes a challenge. It said 'Ignore me now, if you can.'

Oberon accepted the warm greeted given by the Goblin King and blessed the Kingdom. Tatiana accepted the King's good wishes and blessed the Kingdom. Jareth had no choice by to welcome the High King's entourage, but did so as a unit, not as individuals. Offering his arm to the High Queen he escorted her personally into the Goblin castle. The look of approval and astonished surprise on her face more than made up for the intrusion of the Winderspire girl in his home.

Devon acted as the formal escort of the High King, and was well aware that little Daisy was gloating and being given several warnings from Della. He was also aware the Harpy was doing everything in her power not to make eye contact with him. "Sire, I notice a few new faces in your… entourage. I don't see Lady Morrissey, has she taken ill?"

Oberon, although he was fond of his nephew, could have lived without this questioning. He looked at the younger man, his eyes narrowing to slits. "Lady Morrissey is on an extended leave, her daughter just had a child and the good Lady wishes to be where she is most needed." His tone warned Devon not to take it any further.

Tatiana whispered to Jareth, "I'm sorry dear, but I could not refuse her a position merely because she's a thorn in your side. It would not have looked right."

"I understand," he assured her, Jareth knew that court protocol was very important to both Oberon and his Queen. He also understood that he had been given many a pass being one of the many children of the High King. "Just keep her out of my way while you're here." Once in the reception hall and having seen to it that the refreshments were being brought out, Jareth motioned for the pretty woman still giving orders to join him at his side. "I should like to present to you the lady without whose help this day would ever have been as fine an affair, Lady Rosalind."

Oberon moved forward, kissing the Fae woman's temple; "Rosalind dear, how lovely to see you again. We've missed you at court, have we not my Queen?"

Tatiana too offered the younger Fae woman her greeting. "Indeed."

"My duties are to the Goblin throne first… this is my home you know." Rosalind had seen the Winderspire girl and understood that Jareth needed a buffer zone. "I do hope you'll find everything to your liking. The King has spared no expense." She boasted proudly keeping her hand in that of the King's.

Tanya could feel her jaw stiffening and she worked at keeping the pleasant and vacant look on her face that most of the other women in the Queen's train wore. She wondered just why this woman had to interfere.

Devon heard the grumble from Della that was directed to Daisy. "What kind of woman is she? Has she no pride, no honor, no decency?"

"No," replied the smaller guard. "She has one thing on her mind…" she pointed toward the King's circlet. "She wants the mate to that."

As the girl in question walked or really rather floated past the pair, the Harpy shuddered; "Over my dead body."

Daisy snickered, "I hope it does not come to that."

Seeing an opportunity, and no Lady Rosalind to act as a fortification against a frontal assault, the young Fae woman boldly edged her way up to where Jareth was now standing alone. "Your receiving hall is very well appointed." She said pleasantly. "Is the rest of the palace as handsome?"

Jareth bit back the words he wanted to toss at the girl, and haughtily raised an elegant brow. "It is my home."

Brazenly she placed her hand on his sleeve. "I should very much like to see more."

Della gagged and had to turn.

Taking no notice of Della's display Jareth looked at the girl and smiled. "We will have to make arrangements…" when the girl looked ready to burst with joy he added. "I know a good Goblin guide… his name is Hoggle. I shall see if he's got the time." Quickly having burst her bubble he moved on to see to other guests. He was about to take a sip of wine when the summons alarm sounded and tiny Goblin bodies went flying through the hall. He motioned Devon to take over and wordlessly began to go. He had almost made it to the door when Tanya blocked his way. 'Not now,' he groaned mentally.

"Are you off somewhere?" she asked innocently.

"Miss Winderspire," He moved past her. "Not now."

Tanya's mouth opened to protest, however Devon had already come to her side. "He has a summons, Miss Winderspire."

"But the High King is here," she protested thinking she was standing up for the King's honor. "His place is here…"

"No," Devon said curtly. "His place is where he's needed, and right now he's needed elsewhere."

Oberon rolled his eyes while he turned to his wife. "After her year of service is fulfilled, dismiss her." He looked back at the young Fae woman who was pouting at having been dressed down by the Lord Baron. "One would think her father would have informed her of the Goblin King's duties…."

"She's just a spoiled foolish little girl," He wife reminded him with compassion. "You shouldn't let yourself get into a state over her inexperience."

"Her father is a Duke," Oberon countered angrily.

"Yes dear, I know." The High Queen smiled her long suffering smile.

"A Duke with ambitions," he pointed out as he put his free hand to his hip and took a sip from the goblet.

"I'm aware," she too sipped but slower, and more at ease. "Lovely mulled cider; I do so adore the touch of peach, don't you?"

Oberon took a seat beside his wife. "You're changing the subject…" He had to smile when her eyes twinkled as she shook her head in agreement. "Alright, I'll let it go… For now."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Sarah awoke in the room she'd begun to feel more at home in than anywhere else. The afternoon was almost spent and the shadows were beginning to dance on her wall. She turned in the bed and looked at the painting that was her most prized possession. From the moment the old man had given it to her, she'd been looking at it to see if she could see more in it than just a dragon chasing a crane. Every time she looked, it remained the same, until this moment. Sarah felt as if a fog was lifting. She sat up and stared at the painting. Something about it was different today. Something that had been there all along and yet she'd overlooked it as it was most subtle.

"Bryn!" She called out. "Bryn!!" Sarah jumped out of her bed and rushed to the wall where the painting was hung. "Bryn, I need you!"

Bryn entered in a dressing robe, "I'm here."

Sarah pointed to the painting. "What do you see?"

Bryn shrugged; "A dragon and a crane…same as always. Why?"

Trembling Sarah placed her hand on the Crane, her voice shaking with excitement. "It's been here all along and I never saw it… Bryn… The crane… it's not running or flying away.. it's calm and tranquil and in control…. The Crane…. Is luring the Dragon…"

Bryn's shape intake of breath was followed by a soft; "I'll be damned." Moving closer and standing at Sarah's side the girl with long red curls took a deep breath. "You're right…"

"Oh that lovely old man," Sarah whispered. "How could he have known… how could he have seen that this was what I needed to keep me grounded?"

"I don't have answers for that," Bryn said softly. "That's a culture older than ours."

"Ours?" Sarah turned to look at her, stunned by the other's words.

Bryn nodded. "You and I, we're from the Celtic cores…I'm Welsh and you're Scots-Irish, we basically come from the same tribal roots. It's part of why we're so open to the mystical and magical… and the unseen."

"And Lilith?"

Bryn became somber and reflective. "She's the one who should have taken the craft name of Pandora…Like the lady of legend, she does not always consider what her actions with reap." Bryn let her exasperation and frustration go. "She's Greek, and they are a tribe unto themselves. Scratch the surface off of one of those polished edges and you get primal. She's into the Goddess worship, but I don't think it's in the honor of the Goddess… I think it's because she's looking for a reward."

"I hope Bear knows what he's getting himself into... Ah but then, he's Greek too, isn't he?" Sarah looked at the painting again. "Well, that's their problem… not mine… mine is luring the dragon."

Bryn bit her tongue and pulled away from the conversation. Sarah either really didn't see what it was Lilith wanted or she was blocking it. Either way, Bryn knew that Sarah didn't need a long drawn out discussion on the subject of Lilith right now. She needed someone to act as her sounding board, and deep in her heart Bryn was overjoyed that Sarah had turned to her and not Lilith. "Luring the Dragon? You play a dangerous game Sarah."

"Dangerous games are the only ones worth playing," Sarah droned softly, her voice sounding strangely accented. "Tonight we connect the ley line power to our pentagram… and begin the preparations that will bring the Dragon to this Crane."

Bryn looked at the dragon in the painting. "I hope you know what you're doing… that dragon has teeth…"

"I'm reading everything I can on the subject of the Fae and its hierarchy. By the time we have everything consecrated and established, I will be ready… I promise you." Sarah growled, and then softened. "You'd better go finish getting ready, it'll be sundown before you know it… and I want everything to go off without a hitch."

"I'll be ready." Bryn said moving to the door. "Lilith is another matter all together."

Sarah had not taken her eyes off the painting. "I'm not worried about Lilith… she'll be there…because she thinks she's getting power…and I'm not about to tell her different."

Bryn paused, looked over her shoulder and whispered. "You're using Lilith?"

"Not exactly…" Sarah sighed. "Let's just say I'm accepting her… help…. Go on Bryn… get ready. I'll meet you in the chamber in half an hour," turning from the painting Sarah walked toward her bath room. "Hurry Bryn…."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

The girls gathered in the chamber, dressed in long flowing robes. Bryn Lilith and Sarah were all in gray robes of soft linen belted with Celtic knotted hemp cord belts that Bryn had fashioned for them. Lilith had supplied the robes, no one asked where she'd gotten them, both Sarah and Bryn knew Lilith had no idea of how to use needle and thread. They had taken off their shoes in the anteroom outside the chamber. No one but the three girls would enter the chamber this night. Each held a candle in her hand that was unlit. They smudged each other with Sage, and anointed each other with water before going toward the room.

Lilith entered the room first, and turned to Bryn, "How do you enter the circle?"

"In perfect love and perfect trust;" Bryn turned to Sarah. "How do you enter the Circle?"

"In perfect love and perfect trust," she in turn asked of Lilith; "How do you come to the circle?"

Lilith looked at Sarah with the moon and stars in her eyes, "I come in perfect love, and perfect trust." They turned toward the pentagram that had been drawn on the floor via Sarah's directions to Snake. Also on the floor was a box shape in red chalk, and the iron cage that Snake had created. In the five points of the pentagram were pillar candles already lit and burning. Inside the heart of the five pointed star that was surrounded by a circle touching each of the points in turn, was a diagramed of the four corners. Within the heart of the box was an all seeing eye.

"We call upon the ancient power," they chanted in unison; "Guardians of the four quarter towers. Be with us this night and give to us your power. As it is above so be it below. So mote it Be. We call upon the maid, the mother and the crone to guide us. Bless us and accept us." They bent to light the tapers each had carried into the circle. They placed the now lit tapers into holders on the ground at their power points. "We three call upon the Triple Goddess this holy Samhain Night, the maid, the mother and the crone to guide us. Let thy power flow… let the ley lines in this room be opened and this circle consecrated." The lines of the pentagram and its circle began to change, to glow and come to life. What had started out as an ash gray outline; now glowed like the embers of a fire.

"It's working!" Lilith said as she put her palms up and making a slash with the athame she'd carried on her belt. "My life's blood I sacrifice in the name of the Goddess." She handed the blade to Bryn who also slashed into her flesh.

"My life's blood I sacrifice in the name of the Goddess." Bryn gave the twice blooded blade to Sarah.

Sarah also made a cut in her hand, "My life's blood I sacrifice in the name of the Goddess." The three placed their blood dripping hands into the heart of the pentagram and allowed the blood to drop down. Sarah tossed the blade also into the heart of the symbol. Then she held her arms out to her side and palms facing out, quickly she was mirrored by the other two young witches. She nodded and they all chanted together. "Let the power of Mother Earth fill us her daughters, as we call upon the ancient power, Guardians of the four quarter towers. Be with us this night and give to us your power. As it is above so be it below. So mote it is. We close now our circle and thank you for your gifts of enlightenment." Lilith left the circle first, followed by Bryn. Sarah was supposed to be the last to leave the circle.

Before she could step back there was a surge of energy engulfing Sarah in the circle and pentagram, just as suddenly as it rose, it vanished leaving the symbol on the floor glowing and making a strange faint humming sound. Sarah collapsed on the ground, panting for air.

"We are accepted," Lilith announced.

Bryn knew better, only Sarah had truly been accepted. But again she held her tongue. As they exited the building Lilith went to run off to the open and waiting arms of Bear. Only then did Bryn speak to Sarah. "You were the only one marked by the surge of energy." She said swiftly, knowing Lilith would make a scene if they didn't join in the dancing about the bale fries. "I wasn't marked, nor was Lilith… no matter what she says or thinks."

The emerald green eyes were filled with what looked like kaleidoscope flecks of energy. "I know." Sarah nodded, as they moved slowly forward. "But it doesn't matter, not right now."

"Just be warned Sarah," Bryn cautioned. "Lilith is a loose cannon and I don't trust her completely."

"Go dance," Sarah urged quietly as she stood by watching the flames rise into the night sky. "It will be cold soon… and the hard work begins."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Jareth had been very somber upon his return; Devon had kept the High King's court entertained so the Goblin King could be left in peace. Even later at dinner the King seemed reflective and not a part of the festivities. He watched as the court entertainers come out to make merry, but he hardly smiled. Devon leaned over to his cousin and asked quietly. "Were you planning on minstrels and dancing to close this evening's festivities?"

The Goblin King for a moment looked far away, then focused and nodded. "I should not like to disappoint our guests just because I'm in a foul mood." His voice was firm and convicted. He motioned some servant, and moments later a band of wondering minstrels made up of several Underground races came marching in. They bowed to the King and to the High King and Queen before moving to the Minstrels Gallery.

As the lute player began to strum, Jareth rose and moved to the High Queen. "Madam, would you grant me the honor of the first dance?" She accepted, rose to her feet and allowed him to lead her to the dance floor.

"Uncle," Devon had come to the High King's side to speak to him quietly. "I hope you and your court are enjoying your stay thus far."

"Indeed," Oberon looked at his sister's son in earnest. "I'm very impressed with how much you two have accomplished in this last year."

"Not I," Devon refused the glory that would no doubt be showered. "Much as I would like to have a claim, I can not make it. No, it was all Jareth's doing. Every change, every correction, every thing…"

"Do you approve of his… corrections?" Oberon sipped the mulled cider as he spoke.

A heavy sigh escaped the younger Fae, "I confess I don't always understand the need to make these corrections… but then I don't have the Goblin King title nor the responsibly. Sometimes I've… balked at a change or a correction… however I soon see that Jareth knows what is best for the Goblin Realm."

Oberon turned to look at the young Goblin King dancing with the High Queen and looking more mature than he'd ever expected him to. "He's a good King would you say?"

"Better than good, Uncle… Jareth may be the greatest Goblin King of all…" Devon said full of admiration and pride. "But it comes at a cost." When the attention of the High King returned to the face of the younger man, he added. "A cost he's all too willing to pay."

Oberon nodded before turning again to watch the pair on the dance floor.

Other eyes watched as well, eyes that were filled with envy that the High Queen should be chosen to dance with the handsome young King. Tanya's heart filled with lusty desire as she watched the striking couple move across the floor to the old traditional tunes. She moved closer and closer to the edge of the floor, preparing to strike when the song ended.

"Ten says she asks him to dance," Daisy taunted.

"Get real," Della snapped knowing she was being taunted into making a serious mistake.

Devon had come to where they were stationed behind the Goblin King's chair at the High Table. He listened, knowing that Della was angry about having lost so much of the bet already to both Daisy and Devon. "She'll not only ask him, but she' make sure he has no choice but to accept her as a dance partner." He interjected.

"She has to have more pride than that," snapped Della waspishly. "Ten says he walks away and ignores the bitch."

Devon placed a hand to the Harpy's hip. "That music is divine; wouldn't you like to take that lesson now?" he teased at her ear.

Della's jaw set, "Are you taking the bet or not?"

"Done," Devon handed Daisy a little coin, Della did the same and Daisy snickered and gloated.

The song ended and before the King could escort the High Queen to her seat, Tanya waved her hand at the minstrels. She'd cued them with what song to play next. She then moved to the Goblin King and handed him a sprig of late season Heather as the minstrels played a lively Roundel. Jareth had no choice but to accept the sprig, he was host and King and stuck. Devon looked over at Della who had blood in her eyes, he smiled. "Care to dance birdie?" he asked low and playfully.

Della looked at him, for a moment her eyes blazed like wild fires. Quite suddenly she shifted and her eyes became just pools of darkness. "Do you own a coil?" She growled in a lusty tone.

Devon gave her a cocky smile, "I do indeed."

"Wear it," she purred darkly. "I'm off duty at midnight."

Devon watched her move passed him and watched with anticipation the sway of her shapely Harpy hip. He knew that he would enjoy the diversion.

Daisy nudged him with her elbow. "I wouldn't keep that date if I were you, Lord Baron." She warned wisely.

Devon patted her head as if she were a sweet child, and moved away to view the clock, there were only a few hours until midnight.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Lilith was out of breath when she found Sarah and Bryn enjoying a cup of mulled spiked cider. "I've something for you both." She reached under the refreshment table the bikers had set up earlier that day. "Something to make tonight memorable for us all," she handed each of the girls a little box tied in a black and sliver ribbon.

Sarah opened hers and frowned, "Lilith, I don't like body piercings." She looked on the verge of handing the box back. "It's a self mutilation I'd rather not get into…"

"It's not a piercing ring! It's an adjustable clip ring…." She opened her robe to reveal that she was already wearing one. Two rings that were adjusted to the erect nipple and then spanned by a set of delicate gold chains; dangling from one of the chains was a little gold charm that was formed in the shape of a jack-o-lantern. "You're going to love it… it feels so good." Her voice gave away her arousal.

Sarah, uncertain looked at Bryn who shrugged. "Thanks Lilith, but I didn't get you anything, or Bryn either."

"Just knowing you and being with you is enough. The little jack-o-lantern is for Samhain, and I got a bunch of other little charms to attach after each Sabbath and I even found little full moon charms to celebrate the Esbats." Lilith said affectionately before Bear came to claim her for another dance in the night.

Turning to her fellow Celt, Sarah looked down at the gift. "Do we wear them or not?"

"I don't see any harm," Bryn said; "But I suggest we pack them in salt first and wash them in rain water to remove any… negative energies."

Nodding Sarah handed her gift to Bryn, "See to it, I'm tried and I'm going up to my room."

Taking the little box the red haired girl nodded. "Sleep well Sarah," she bit back the urge to say 'pleasant dreams'.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

The High King gave his wife the signal he'd had more than enough merriment for one night and their entire party retired for the evening. Jareth drew his first relaxed breath in hours. He opened the collar of his jacket and announced he was off to his own bed. The guards saw him to his chamber and were relived at the stroke of twelve.

Devon was on the terrace waiting when the Harpy swooped down. "I was beginning to wonder if I were being stood up." He told her.

Della's wings twitched slightly as she moved forward. "Oh come now, Lord Baron," she retorted boldly. "You won, fair and square…"

"Yes, I did." He offered her his hands, "Come Della, the lesson is about to begin."

'Oh there's a lesson to be learned here, but not by me, Fae Boy… Not by me,' she thought in a rage. Knowing she had to lull the man into a false sense of security, the Harpy placed one taloned hand into his gloved hand. He placed the other hand at her hip as he began to explain the fundamentals of dance. In spite of what her plans were or perhaps because of them she began to enjoy the lesson. As the Fae Baron felt more and more in control he moved closer and closer to her. Soon his cheek was along side hers and he closed his eyes as they danced. Della gently spread her wings and they rose into the night sky. Devon murmured something about dancing on air and she chuckled softly.

Devon opened his eyes and looked down, "Della," He murmured playfully. "Trying to teach me to dance in the sky?"

"Something like that," she purred as she rose higher and higher until the opening of the tower was in sight. "I have somewhere I'd like to take you, something to show you."

Devon smiled broadly, thinking he was about to get his first taste of foreplay with a Harpy. "I'd be happy to see anything you wished to show me."

'I'll bet,' she thought grimly but replied. "You're going to be very surprised." When they entered the window that had little better than a ledge for a balcony, Devon looked at the room that was within the tower. "Della, what is this place?"

"A secret place," she assured him. "A place where no one will disturb us…" She ran a single talon down his back side; upon reaching his bottom she gently gave the rounded rump a squeeze. She was careful not to damage him or his garments. "So let's see that coil," she demanded lustily.

Devon, though he was usually bold, found himself feeling a bit like a fish out of water and timid. "Would you not rather… get to know each other…first?" Little alarms were suddenly going off in his head.

"What's to know," Della began to unhitch her harness and was quickly freed of the contraption, standing naked before the Baron. "Don't waste my time, Baron."

Devon gazed upon the female with lustful pleasure, "I assure you, my dear birdie, I will not be wasting either your time or mine." He removed his garments until he too stood bathed in the light of the stars in exquisite nakedness.

Huskily Della chuckled in the back of her throat; she placed her hands on either side of Devon's head, letting her talons move though his thick blond hair. Slowly she took possession of his lips with what seemed to be a hungry kiss. It was easy to move him toward the bed, and then onto it while her hands explored him right down to the coil. Devon moaned into her mouth as her talon moved over the coil exciting him. She knew he was not aware of her movement with her hand, not truly aware of what she was doing. He was too busy getting excited and aroused. With ease she clipped the lodestone onto the coil. Then her hands came back up the sides of the handsome fit body that was beneath her. She stretched his arms above his head, and swiftly anchored him to with the restraints.

Devon dazed and lulled into a aroused state snickered lustily. "Kinky."

Having secured him to the bed she grabbed the gag that she'd spotted on the stand beside the bed and shoved it into his mouth. "You'll never know just how Kinky." She growled coarsely. She moved to his legs and began to secure them just as the Fae became aware that he could not free himself or use his powers. "Don't bother trying to use magic," She moved her hand over his coil. "I've tagged you with a lodestone, my Lord Baron." She moved to the window, bending down to retrieve her harness on the way. "Thanks for the dance lesson." She spread her wings and took to the skies, leaving the helpless Fae strapped to the bed. "That should teach him a lesson he's not likely to forget."She said aloud as she winged her way to her rookery and a good night's sleep.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Late into the second day of the festivities Oberon commented to Jareth that he'd not seen Devon all day, did he know where his errant nephew could be? Jareth began to realize that he had not seen Devon since the night before, just before he'd retired for the night. He asked the Steward if he'd seen the Lord Baron, and was told his bed had not been slept in. Seeing not one of the Queen's ladies was missing Jareth began to wonder where Devon had slipped of to and with whom.

Daisy found the King pacing the circular chamber the next morning with a worried grimace on his arresting face. "Something amiss?" she asked.

"I can not locate Baron Devon," He murmured. "He's gone missing… I cannot even locate him with scrying or with my mind…" He worried aloud.

"How long has he been missing?" Daisy had gone off duty and been off for over twenty-four hours.

"Since the Samhain evening festivities, why;" The King looked at her with interest. "Do you know something?"

"I may," she huffed. "I warned him not to mess with her, I told him not to tease her…" She fumed.

"Whom," Jareth sat down on his throne. "Whom did you warn him off?

Squaring her shoulders Daisy faced her King. "Della… you know she and I have a friendly wagering thing going, yes?" He nodded and the little Goblin woman continued. "Well, your cousin sort of …horned in on one of our…wagers."

Not knowing if he should laugh or cry, Jareth groaned. "Where do you think she may have taken him?" He sensed the little Goblin was disinclined and reluctant to snitch. "Come, come…Daisy…where would Della take him."

"She spends a lot of time flittering about your ivory tower… said something about it being a nice hideaway…" Daisy offered grudgingly.

Jareth stood up, "Daisy, come with me, I've a feeling that I may have need of a guard with the utmost of discretion. He placed a hand on the Goblin and transported them both to the tower. He saw the struggling naked Fae, who upon seeing the king let out a groan and then a frustrated growl. "Oh dear," Jareth mocked. "What have you gotten yourself into this time, cousin," He approached the bed, saw the stone attached to the coil and snickered. "Tagged eh?" Devon pulled at the restraints making faces of anger with his eyes and shaking his head. Jareth turned to Daisy who was failing to keep a straight face. "Daisy; be a good girl, and remove that lodestone and pocket it if you please." He began to unfasten the restraints that held his cousin's hands. "Then get the Lord Baron's feet if you will."

Daisy looked at the Baron, bowed and said courteously; "With your permission, my lord." She easily removed the stone that had caused the Baron to be incapacitated. She placed the little stone into the leather pouch on her belt, and moved swiftly to unfasten the Baron's feet.

"I'll have Harpy fricassee!" Growled Devon.

"No you won't," warned Jareth. "If you try, I'll tell everyone how she duped you into coming up here and how she… left you."

Devon looked at Daisy, "I don't want to hear a word of this beyond this room!" He vanished angrily.

Daisy looked at the King. "I did warn him."

Jareth smiled. "I'm sure you did, perhaps he's learned not to mess with Harpies." He placed a hand to the shoulder of his guard. "Well I'd best find Della and chastise her."

"Ha!" Daisy scoffed. "Lots of luck.

The Harpy was perched upon the stone balustrade that made up the balcony off the King's private rooms. She wore a look of triumphant victory that refused to be chastised. Jareth, raising one elegant brow shook his head as he stepped into the bright autumn day. "Della, why? Why did you have to go and do that? The Baron has duties, and you've interfered in his carrying them out. Are you trying to sabotage this court event? Do you not realize that the High King would notice the absence of his own nephew?"

The Harpy met the King's disdainful and haughty gaze with one of bold rebelliousness. "Some men need to be put in their places, Sire. The Lord Baron sees himself as one who should be on a pedestal… Does that tower not make a fine pedestal?" Her tone was saucy and just shy of disrespectful. She lightly hopped down and sauntered closer to the King whose life she vowed to protect. "I did not harm the pretty little Baron… the lodestone I tagged him with was only powerful enough to render him more… reasonable."

"Della, you left him naked incapacitated and restrained in a tower reserved for the King's sex slave." Jareth corrected unable to keep from smiling at her antics. "And this is what you refer to as putting him in his place?"

Her head nodded enthusiastically as she moved closer to her King, she let her lips come close to his ear and whispered in a cooing voice. "And where is your place, my King?" Her eyes danced with mischief and lusty arousal.

"Where ever I place myself." His voice came huskily from the back of his throat as he move to swat the Harpy's firm fanny. She laughingly screeched, rising into the sky before his hand could connect with her bottom. As she rose into the sky with her wings fully extended a few flight feathers dislodged and fluttered to the balcony landing at the King's feet. He bent to pick one up and examine it, he mused aloud. "So that's how the old Goblin King obtained all those feathers for that cape…." He tucked both feathers into his jacket and hurried to see his guests off. He was pleased that with the exception of Devon's run in with Della, the entire event had gone off well. The High King was impressed and pleased with all that had transpired. And the Kingdom was being seen in a more serious light by the High Court. Jareth knew he still had a way to go to bring the Kingdom back to its glory…but at least he was on his way. With this visit having gone so well, he began to plan for more in the days to come.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

When Bryn returned the body jewelry to her, Sarah asked quietly how she'd not gotten them both confused with each other. "She tagged them with our names." Bryn showed Sarah the little charm that had her name engraved upon it.

At first Sarah had not wanted to even try the thing on. Then one night after a long grueling day, she reassessed and in the privacy of the bathroom worked with the adjustable clamps until she had it on and fitted to a strangely pleasant pinch. The little chains dangling on her beasts and below tickled and felt oddly enjoyable amusing and giving the girl a satisfying tingle; Sarah began to wear the sensual jewelry under her garments, even giving up a bar to do so. Lilith saw it as a sign that Sarah was slowly accepting her…. Bryn knew better.

More and more Sarah was distancing herself from her family. She had refused a trip to New York to spend the Holidays with her mother. She had refused to go back home for the spring break, telling her father curtly that she'd things to do here at the university. Bryn noticed that on the days they were not at the compound Sarah seemed tense and restless, relying on pills and herbs and even alcohol to get some king of rest. Her dancing became more and more alluring, but if some poor customer made the mistake of reaching for Sarah he was swiftly rebuffed. On one occasion she coldly dispatched the assailant with a broken nose having shoved the palm of her hand into his bulbous nose breaking it in three places. Bryn worried about her, and about the misinformation that Lilith was eager to supply her. She often found books with dark magic scattered in the room and Sarah pacing like a caged animal.

Lilith, had given each of them a charm for the nipple chain with each Sabbath, on December the twenty first, for Yule she had three little charms of pinecones and mistletoe for each of them on the alter they now were amassing. On the second of February, for Candlemas there were little candles in shiny gold. For Ostera on March 21st came bunnies, May 1st there was little cauldrons for Beltane, on June 21st came acorns in oak leaves, then on Lugassada she gave them each a shaft of wheat and clusters of grapes on Mabon September 21st. Finally when Samhain arrived the following year she topped it off with little brooms and an assortment of stars to be affixed along with the thirteen moons that now graced the dangling chains.

Lilith had not seemed to take much notice of the building anger or irritation that seemed to plague Sarah in the days leading up to Samhain. She only thought the nineteen year old was excited about the planned act of vengeance. She took little head of the warnings that Bryn was now voicing on a regular basis about Sarah. Lilith had not headed the warnings of the girl on the subject of magic either. Her hopes and plans were for Sarah to be freed, and to share with her the joys of being female.

Bryn could feel the storm coming; she'd noticed a change in the energies that the ley lines were pulsating. She had tried to warn Sarah, but the girl had snapped at her that if she wanted her opinion she'd give it to her. Bryn experienced the feeling of being a witness at a train wreck… you don't want to look but you're compelled to. Only when they were at the compound did Sarah get any kind of peace. Only when they were near the ley lines did she seem to rest. She was not surprised when the week before the holy feast Sarah took a leave from her classes and moved out to the compound. She'd said it was to prepare, but Bryn had a feeling it was more. Sarah was keeping to herself more and more, she'd even stopped dancing. Snake had loaned her a motorcycle over the summer and Sarah had began to ride alone around the compound. But these days she refused even that release. Her mood was darker than ever, her language was foul and course when she spoke, expect when she was at the compound. She had begun to use more and more pills while she was at the dorm, but here she didn't seem to need to depend on the drugs that were prescribed to treat her milady.

It was no surprise when Bryn found her alone in the chamber making the last minute adjustments to the items she'd hand Snake attach to the cage. "Snake sent this over," Bryn said quietly holding a small parcel to Sarah. "He said you'd know what to do with it."

Sarah opened up the box, and gingerly lifted the stiff collar of flexible leather that was imbedded with iron studs and panels. "Nasty little thing, isn't it?" she showed it to Bryn.

"Sarah, that's iron…" Bryn gasped distressed and disturb at seeing the vicious collar in the hands of the other girl. "You know Iron kills his kind!"

"It's not enough to kill, just to torment, and scar," Sarah assured her placing it on the altar. "With this we are now ready…"

"Ready?" Bryn asked.

"For the dragon to be lured to the crane," she looked at the girl with long red curls flowing freely. "Go get ready…and tell Lilith to stop shagging Bear… we've work to do."

"I'm not shagging Bear at the moment," Lilith quipped entering the chamber. "I've brought these." She handed a leather mask to each of the other girls. "They just arrived from your mother's friend… not even a question as to how we intend to use them." Lilith held up the leather tiger mask to her face and laughed maliciously.

Bryn looked at her mask, the face of a wolf, delicately formed in fine soft leather. "They'd be beautiful if not for their purpose," her voice filled with regret.

While Sarah looked at her own demon's face, Lilith moved toward Bryn with anger, her voice sharp as she spoke to the other. "You stop it, I know what you're doing… you're trying to talk her out of this… well just stop it… She needs to free herself.."

"It won't matter, Lilith," the Welsh girl stated, unimpressed with the Greeks threatening posture. "Even should we succeed, Sarah Williams will never look at you as anything but a friend."

Lilith's face darkened. "I don't think we're going to be needing you anymore after this is played out Bryn…. Have you thought of where you'll go from here?"

Bryn gave her a piteous expression. "Sarah is the High Priestess here Lil, and only Sarah can dismiss me…"

"I'll see to it that she does!" growled the Greek girl.

"You do that," Bryn sighed. "But for now, Sarah wants us to prepare… I suggest you and I do as she wishes." Having had her say, she strolled off as unruffled as could be.

Lilith seethed watching Bryn leave so calmly. She looked over to where Sarah was inspecting her mask, and knew that she didn't wish to be disturbed or she'd have stayed close. Lilith was fearful, could Bryn be right? Did Sarah see her as but a good friend when it was so much more she wanted to show? Lilith vowed that when the vengeance had played out she'd wrap Sarah in her arms and introduce her to the pleasures that could be had. All they had to do was destroy the devil who'd robbed Sarah of her dreams… she was sure the dreams would return and Sarah would be free… free to be hers…. Lilith looked again toward where Bryn had stood, and no one, not even Bryn was going to stand in her way.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14. Luring a Dragon**

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

**Author's note and warning**

**Due to violence and sexual content.**

**This chapter contains both sex and violence. It also**

**Contains a blood sacrifice. **

**Be warned!**

**Read at your own risk**

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Sarah stood quietly before the mirror, thinking how far she'd traveled since that night long ago when she'd spoken words she'd no idea held such power. She had never really wanted to be rid of Toby, not really. It still pained her that she'd sent the poor child into the grasp of that demon, the Goblin King. She prayed that the child now a precocious five year old, would not remember his stay in the keeping of the Goblins except as little more than a dream. She had only turned fifteen a few weeks before; she knew so little of life back then. She had been a dreamer… not just in her sleeping hours but also in her waking ones. Still looking for castles in clouds and knights in shiny armor, and enchanted prince's to come and sweep her off her feet. A girl in a poet's shirt and jeans running a Labyrinth in thirteen hours had changed all that.

She looked in the mirror, gone was the innocence, and the hope for love. No one could touch her; no one could share passion with her, thanks to what the Goblin had taken from her. He may as well have taken her virginity as well; it was of no use to her as she was; dreamless and hopeless. There had been no dates, no parties, no prom…no hot sweaty bodies in the back seat of a car. No exploration of bodies… no sex… except what she'd been able to have with the help of a battery operated device and little satisfaction that brought. After the first few tries she'd given up on that as well. She looked at the nightstand and the pills she'd not taken for days now. She wanted to be on edge, to be filled with rage. Rage was one thing she was sure that Goblin would understand, and she wanted to direct it all towards him; for he'd robbed her of much more than just the ability to dream.

She'd planed for months on just what to wear when they chanted and preformed the spell that would bring Jareth to her. At first she was going to wear the robes they wore for Sabbaths, but that seemed wrong and almost sacrilegious. This was vengeance and judgment, and as she had with Daniels she wanted it to be something the King would remember. She'd looked at the chaps with the red leather thong bikini bottom tied at her hips, and the bolero jacket with its red leather flames. Under which she wore only the gold nipple jewelry. On her feet were spiky red heels, gone were the flat loafers she'd run the Labyrinth with. She was no sweet innocent little girl, and the King would know it. Pulling her long hair up she fashioned a genie ponytail to come out of the back of the mask that fit her face snugly without causing harm to skin or hair. She carried a riding crop in her hand tightly, giving her feeling of if not power, authority. She was not surprised to find most of the bikers had left the compound. It was the middle of the week and most of the boys would be attending hot and wild parties elsewhere. Only Bear and Snake had opted to stay on the grounds in case they were needed. The girls had not shared with them what exactly was planned, but Bear had an idea, and thought it was a matter of prudential judgment for him to stay close.

Bryn was lighting the smudging stick when Sarah arrived, she was also dressed in leathers. Her form fitting leather skirt laced up the back and was cut with a slit up to her upper thigh; she also had a bolero jacket that showed the chains dangling off her erect nipples. Her long red curls made a strange mane for the wolf masks, yet seemed just right. Her hands shook a little as she smudged Sarah and was in turn smudged herself.

Lilith entered the chamber last; her wicked leather harness left nothing to the imagination. Baring her breasts, her rings and chains dangling enticingly as she strutted in thigh high boots with a heel that looked impossible to stand on let alone walk in. The tiger mask covering her eyes and nose seemed to just make her look more feral and dangerous. "I'm here, and the party can start." She quipped prancing across the floor.

"You're not the guest of honor," Sarah reminded her sharply, suspiring both Lilith and Bryn with its biting tone. "Bryn smudge her, and let's get to work." Sarah looked in the book she'd been studying from once more. Her manner and body language told everyone concerned she had no patience for Lilith right now.

Bryn passed the smudging stick over the third member of the little circle. "What's that book Sarah's reading from, I don't remember that book," she whispered to Lilith, filled with an urgent need to know.

"Oh just some book of darker spells I came across," Lilith made light of the question and of the answer; "Nothing for you to worry your pretty little red head about."

The Welsh girl doubted that and told Lilith what was on her mind without reservation. There was no ritual here asking how she was coming into the circle, and she knew it was time to let the chips fall where they may. "Look you idiot, if you've done something, given Sarah information I need to know what it is."

Tauntingly Lilith looked at the girl she now thought of as her nemeses. "I gave her a book that will help her, that's all…"

"What book?" Bryn demanded. "What book?"

"Oh it's just a bunch of spells that were translated from an old Anglo-Roman scroll…" Lilith said with exasperation. "I don't even know what it was called…"

Bryn's mind began to reel about, and she swallowed hard. "Tell me you didn't give her a copy of the _**La Tène**_ scrolls."

Lilith's eyes went cold as ice and hard as flint. "_**La Tène**_, yes, I do believe that's what the book was called. What's the worry Bryn? Don't you want Sarah to get her dreams back? Or are you worried that she'll see that I'm the one who _**loves**_ her?"

"Those scrolls are full of dark spells that none of us are ready to use. I've got to stop her." She turned away, looking for Sarah, but Lilith grabbed her.

"It's too late," Lilith gloated. "I've given the High Priestess the words of power…A gift you will never be able to surpass. When Sarah has her dreams back, she will look at me with favor and you'll be out of luck."

"Out of luck? You idiot! This has nothing to do with helping Sarah; it's just you wanting your way." Bryn shoved Lilith back. "I want Sarah to get her dreams back, maybe even more than you do. But giving her that translation was not the way to do it! That language goes back to the time of the _**Tuatha Dé Danann**_, The children of Danu. Most Ban Drui stay as far from those scrolls as we can get for a reason and you go and hand them to a girl whose very balance is in question!"

"Feeling the change?" Lilith taunted. "Soon Sarah won't need you."

"You are the biggest fool," Bryn balled her fists. "What makes you think she's going to need you?"

The face of gloating on the Greek girl fell, all her bravado crumpled and she was left with her naked soul showing. "She has to…. I love her… I'd do anything for her… I gave her the books and the words… I showed her how to use the power…"

Bryn exhaled in exasperation, "Lilith, the power was already part of Sarah, and all you've done is opened Pandora's box _**all over again**_!"

Sarah had put space between herself and the other two bickering witches. Even with the energies of the ley lines she felt like her skin was too tight on her. She looked out the window, "Bryn, Lil, the sun is going down; we have to light the candles now, make the sacrifice and say this chant." Her voice was urgent as she moved toward the chamber.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Sitting with the other honored guests at the Samhain festival, Jareth mused at how far his régime had come in the past thirteen moons. While there were still those who scoffed at and scorn the Goblin Realm, they were fewer in numbers and had a much quieter voice. No longer were there raiding parties on his boarders, the Harpies had seen to that. His Kingdom's forces were growing stronger, and gaining back some of the long lost respect that he felt they deserved. His trade accords were building up the revenues of his coffers and he had begun a rebuilding schedule. The High Court could find no fault with him; he was making sure to attend what functions he could. However he drew the line at things that would interfere in his being about to carry out his duties.

He looked at his cousin seated at his side; Devon had recovered from the humiliation supplied by Della who once in a while would rub salt into his wound. Devon for his part, still jested with both Della and Daisy, but never betting more than a few coins on some wager the guards were haggling over. He had not spoken to Della directly for months after the incident, and things had remained awkward until Devon let it go.

Jareth had begun to include the presence of Lady Rosalind in his parties more and more. At first she'd been a good foil against any female who had her sights set on either the King or his Baron. Or at least she seemed to be. When he had attended the Solstice celebration at Oberon's palace Rosalind had been on his arm, and there seemed to be more than one whisper of her elevated status. Jareth had thought that would be it, and there'd be no more unwanted advance from young Fae women or their hopeful mothers. However he had been mistaken, for when Candlemas arrived he was surprised to find Tanya lying in wait for him outside the King's chapel at Avalon. She'd made a great show of having a special candle for him to use during the ceremony. She'd been a little too welcoming as well, and even Oberon seemed embarrassed by the lengths the girl was willing to go to. Ostera had come and Jareth had not attended court as he was needed in his own Kingdom. When Beltane arrived he had pointedly brought Rosalind on his arm to the great Morrison Dance and the Maypole ceremony. In spite of that the little minx Tanya had boldly invited the King to be her partner for one of the dances about the Maypole. He'd give her credit for being bold and persistent and perhaps a bit more tenacious than he'd thought she'd be. When the High King's court arrived at the Goblin Palace for Midsummer, Jareth had doubled his guards to put the girl off. He'd failed. Occasion after occasion had come and gone, and still she persisted in chasing the unwilling King. Now it was Samhain once again, and this time he was not on his kingdom's soil. He was once more on Avalon's lovely shores, and once more being pursued by Tanya and her crown hungry parents.

Their arrival foreshadowed the direction this visit was going to be traveling. Oberon looked a bit tense when the younger King's party arrived. He was almost stiff in his greeting and that in and of itself had given warning to both Jareth and Devon. Word had it that there had been several complaints lodged with the High Court against the Goblin Realm. This reception and the coolness he was received with by other Fae told the young king that the rumors must be true.

They had kept the assembled group going to Avalon to a small number, and had refused accommodations for remaining on Avalon. Jareth had wanted to get away from the Fae court nearly as soon as they had arrived. He'd never seen so many hungry female faces. "My God and Goddess are they all in heat?" he had quipped to Devon who'd not only agreed but had snickered cruelly.

Now seated at the festival dinner he was feeling more and more like a piece of meat on display. He was not certain but he had a feeling pressure was being applied to the High King to push marriage contracts on both the young eligible royals. He looked with stormy eyes at the Fae women in the court that were the most likely candidates being offered up. Tanya of course, for she was perhaps the most visible, and on of the higher ranking ladies in question. Then there was the daughter of the High King's advisor, Lord Bartle, whose daughter Lilia was afraid of her own shadow. Jareth could just image what she'd be like after but one hour in the Goblin Castle. There was the niece of the War Minister, a brassy thing called Talia, whose voice could bring you to tears. A widow named Mina, a barely out of the cradle creature called Coral, and a few others whose names the young king could not recall; slim pickings at best. Lastly the one female in the entire Fae population whom was the least likely being Jareth would ever deem to even look upon, Cerci the daughter of Morriagin of Talagon Jareth's sworn enemy. Devon would occasionally place a hand to his cousin's sleeve and whispered to him something to keep them both amused.

Long before the bale fires were ignited and the merry songs were being played by the mistrials Jareth had his fill of this feasts merriment. His skin felt too tight, and he could not enjoy some thing as simple as a goblet of mulled wine. Every voice at this banquet seemed to irritate him to no end. He watched as young men and women partnered up for reels and roundels, and other dance that would be preformed this evening. Both he and Devon had made refusals to be partnered up, and were standing off to the side hoping against hope not to attract too much attention. Devon was worried, Jareth seemed more stressed out and anxious than he'd seen him since the first days of the new movement in the kingdom.

Tanya moved like a ghost, stealthy and bold. She was at the side of the Goblin King before he could even perceive she'd arrived. "Won't you dance with me?" she placed a hand on the King's sleeve; he pulled back from her with a swift movement. Her eyes opened wide as he shuddered at her touch.

"Miss Winderspire," Jareth growled at her. "When will you leave me alone?"

Not to be put off, the girl smiled softly, thinking she would charm him. "Not until you've a Queen at your side." She looked at the other free young women at the gathering. "From what I see, I'm the best choice you could make."

Jareth was astounded by her boldness, "Tanya, you try my patience." His voice was hard as flint as he spoke to the girl. "I am not interested in taking a Queen at this time. I've enough on my shoulders just trying to undo the damages that Fae Kings have inflicted on the lands of the Labyrinth with out complicating things by taking a wife."

"A wife could help you," she countered not willing to give up the fight. "A good wife could help make your kingdom a paradise."

Shuddering in anger the young Fae King was held back by his Lord Baron. "I'm not interested in a paradise you silly twit!" he spat at her. "I'm interested in rebuilding a kingdom filled with the things that nightmares are made of. Things that go bump in the night and frighten the hell out of the bravest of men."

Devon had placed himself between the King and the girl, "Tanya, leave…now," he ordered, addressing the girl by her given name instead of her last name which would have been protocol. He held Jareth back from physically attacking his antagonist. Once the girl had moved back, Devon released his cousin from his grip. "What is the matter with you? She was just being a silly little girl; you didn't have to come down on her like that. So you don't want a Queen… fine…"

Jareth looked pale and shaken, "I'm not sure…" He said taking deep breaths. "I've never experienced anything like this before; could I be having what the mortals call an anxiety attack?"

Devon placed a hand to his cousin's shoulder, "The main part of the feast is nearly over, and we can leave soon. Until then why don't you go for a walk, I'll keep that child off your scent and any other silly female who is fool enough to try and follow you."

Nodding the King agreed, but paused before motioning his guards to accompany him for a short stroll. "Dev, you recall that old mind trick we used to play?" When his cousin said he did, the King whispered insistently. "Keep your mind open to me, should I have need of you."

"Of course," Devon said opening the thread that linked him to his cousin, before sending the young King off down a path that was unoccupied.

Della felt her wings twitch and itch, and Daisy sensed danger from some where she was not sure of. Della placed a hand over to the shoulder of her companion and fellow guard. "Keep a sharp eye, runt."

"You too, bird brain," countered the Goblin woman. "I feel it too."

Lost in his own thoughts the King had not heard the words his guards spoke. He was experiencing some very strange sensations, and was not sure what to make of them. The one comfort was his cousins link.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Black candles were lit, one at each point of the pentagram. A little cage held a large gray dove. Bryn watched as Sarah took it from the confines of the cage. "No, Sarah don't!" Bryn warned as the girl drove a little dagger into the breast of the bird. "Sarah, no…." she watched in horror as the girl sprinkled the blood spurting from the still beating heart about the circle. "What are you doing, you can't be serious."

"It's a blood sacrifice that's needed Bryn." Sarah said trying not to be horrified by her own actions. The bird quivered in her hands as its blood drained while she walked about the circle.

"We've always used our own blood," Bryn argued following Sarah about the circle. "What happened to harm none?"

"This spell is not in the Wicca rituals, Bryn… you know that… it's older magic we need to bring my prey to me." Reaching the end of the circle Sarah was shaking as she felt the beautiful creature in her hands give its last heart beat. "I thank you for your gift," she kissed the bird before placing the remains in the center of the altar. "Let the Goddess Morrigan be pleased with our offering." She said fighting tears that stung the corner of her eyes.

"Morrigan?" Bryn backed away from the altar and shook her head. "No, don't evoke her! You've no idea of what you're doing. She's a blood thirsty flesh eater!"

"Yes Bryn, I do." Sarah faced her. "Now be so kind as to take your place, so I can read this chant."

"Are you after justice or vengeance?" the girl demanded before she'd move.

"Right now, they seem pretty much the same." Sarah motioned her to the circle where Lilith already stood. "We don't have a lot of time, Bryn. The window of opportunity is narrow…I have to do this now…or die…in trying… I can't go on this way… I'm not even finding peace here…near the ley lines. Now go, get in place so I can get started." Shaking her head, the other girl moved to her assigned position. Sarah opened the book that she'd placed on the ground beside the circle that now had blood sprinkled on it; the book too had been spattered with the dove's blood. Her voice filled the chamber as she began to read the invocation of the Goddess Morrigan, and the chant that was echoed by her companions. Over and over they repeated the words of enchantment, slowly the circle, the pentagram and the symbols it held began to glow softly.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Oberon found Devon barring a pathway, and keeping the young Miss Winderspire from following after Jareth. A small group of Fae had gathered to watch, among them was Talagon and his daughter. "What is this commotion?" he demanded looking at the young woman.

"This oaf won't let me pass," the girl complained not thinking of the family connection between the King and the Baron.

"Jareth is acting like he does just before a summons comes," Devon informed the High King. "The last thing he needs is this pest underfoot, disturbing his preparations."

"How dare you call me a pest, my father is a Duke," she snapped.

"My mother is the High King's sister," Devon snapped back shoving her back from the path. "Go back to the festivities, and leave the Goblin King in peace you foolish girl."

"Do as you are told," Oberon commanded and found the girl staring at him in disbelieve; "Tanya do you even know what the duties of the Goblin King are? Perhaps you should find out before you go any farther with this pursuit you seem hell bent on." The girl grabbed her gown up so she would not trip on it as she turned to go back the way she'd come. Oberon shook his head, grimacing. "That one is going to be trouble." He looked seriously at Devon. "Should a summons come…"

"Jareth will answer it," he assured the High King. "However, I think it would be prudent for me to go find the Goblin King and keep him company. I had wanted him to cool down, that twit of a girl invades his space every chance she gets."

"Go find my son, and tell him I will understand if he takes his leave early and does not even bother with a fare-thee-well." Bowing the Baron swiftly took his leave of the King and moved down the path. Oberon frowned, feeling a presence that was not familiar. Stormy clouds overhead heralded trouble brewing, Oberon wondered from whom. Looking at the crowd, he didn't like the expression on the face of Talagon. Oberon was sure he was up to something, and it would not bode well for Jareth. Cerci, on the other hand; was watching Tanya make her way back to the feasting area. Something about Father and Daughter disturbed the High King.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

The three witches continued to chant, now the soft glow of the circle was becoming brighter and the color of the circle had changed from the dark lines to a bright red. There was a roaring rush of wind and the sound of a barrier being breached. It sounded like the gates of hell were opening; still they held their places and continued to chant.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Unaware of how far he'd walked down the path, Jareth found himself in a clearing that was surrounded by stones in the shape of a circle. Had he been paying attention he'd have diverted his steps and never come this far. He was now entering what had been called Morrigan's Dance. It had once been where Fae who were faithful to the Goddess Morrigan had worshiped, and still held disturbing energies. The moment he'd entered the circle he was aware he'd made a mistake. Faintly he could hear his guards and Devon's voice over the roar of wind and a sound he'd not heard in his life time. He half turned, looking over his shoulder toward the cousin whose face held the look of alarm, as the Goblin King vanished.

Della rushed forward, but had felt held back by something very powerful. She fell to the ground just after the King vanished with Daisy falling over her. Devon went down as well, even though he was a bit behind the pair of guards. "Della, are you alright, Daisy?"

Della growled, "What the hell was that? And where is the King?" She demanded pulling herself and the Goblin guard up off the ground. She looked at the strange circle questioningly.

"Someone opened a temporal portal from the mortal realm," Devon said assertively with certainty. "I've heard about such things, but this is the first I've witnessed it happening. I was not aware there was a mortal still capable of. It takes a lot of power and control… and the use of energies from nature…." He had risen as well and was brushing himself off. "Seeing that it happened here in this circle, I'd say who ever did this used the _**La Tène.**_"

Daisy's head snapped as she turned to him. "Is that possible?"

"Mortals have been uncovering a great many scrolls for generations now. They must have unearthed that scroll and translated it," Devon looked behind them to be sure they were still alone. "Alright, we need to follow our beloved King…" he pointed back down the path. "Before someone sounds an alert!"

"Follow the King," Della mocked. "Just how do you suggest we do that?"

"By opening a portal," Devon pointed to the circle. "We can follow and transport ourselves to where we will be near the King. I am a Fae you know," he reminded the Harpy. "Contrary to popular conjecture, I did pay attention to the tutors… and I know the portal spells nearly as well as Jareth."

"How will you know where to go?" Della asked still not certain.

"He's connected to the King with a mind link," Daisy said confidently. "He and the King have been life long companions."

Devon nodded; "Quickly ladies," he motioned them to follow him into the center of Morrigan's Dance. "Hang on, and remember keep silent when we arrive. WE need to see what we are up against before we go in with swords burnished." He began to speak a chant in a very old tongue, the circle roared with power and the trio vanished.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Jareth felt the tingling begin to dissipate and recognized the feel of the mortal plane as he materialized in the center of a pentagram. To his utter shock and horror, he found himself unable to move for a moment.

"Release the net!" a voice ordered.

He was able to move his eyes and could make out the shape of a very feminine form clad in beautifully crafted leather. The female speaking wore a mask, red and black and with the features of a demon that covered her upper face revealing only a very beautiful and shapely mouth that was painted in blood red lipstick. In the dim lighting of this chamber he could not see her eyes clearly. However he could smell her scent and found himself becoming instantly aroused by the musky feminine womanly fragrance wafting off her. Before he could offer her a haughty and cocky smile he felt the netting that was dropped from above him. There was pain he should not feel with just the simple hemp knotting, he noticed the little iron beads laced in much too late. Agonized he let out a gasp.

"He does not look so dangerous;" a second female voice said arrogantly and much too overconfidently. "I'd wager I could take him down alone."

"Silence," ordered the first female before snapping her fingers. The other two, for now the King could see the third leather clad female, came to the sides of the one in the demon mask. She looked down at the King with pursed lips before nodding. "Welcome to Hell," the one in the center said invitingly. She wore the mask of a demon fashioned in red and black leather and now as his vision cleared he could see she was clad in leathers that were in the same shades of red and black. The Bolero jacket barely covered her full and beautifully rounded breasts; there was a chain with charms dangling under the open jacket. Her chaps hugged her hips suggestively. Standing on the ley lines, her body was feeing on the energies and her aura was strong and powerful making her look even more enticing to anyone who was familiar with magical energies. However, in spite of her alluring beauty, it was her scent that was arresting him. So familiar yet so mysteriously foreign.

"The hour of retribution has arrived," the one on the right stated firmly, wearing a wolf's image over her face. Her garments were as revealing in a different manner from the demon woman. She too wore an open Bolero styled jacket, but she had a long skirt that was slit up her hip, and had a crowning glory of reddish gold hair that was cascading behind her mask. Her aura was nearly as strong as the girl in the Demon mask, and also feeding directly from the ley lines.

"Any last words," asked the one on the left, this young woman wore the mask of a tiger crouching down and taunting the fallen Fae. She was in what would be a slave's harness in his kingdom, and she was clearly not in her right mind, nor was her spirit feeding off the energies. She appeared to be parasitical, and what little power fed her aura was coming from fallout of the two other witches.

"Ladies," he said breathily. "I assure you, a net is not necessary. I'll be only too happy to spend some time in your company."

"Time in our company?" The tiger faced one laughed tauntingly. "Fool!" Standing she raise her foot to kick the fallen man, but the one in the center growled at her and the foot went down again.

The one in the center moved forward. "_**We are your judges**_."

"_**Your crimes are many**_," said the wolf.

"_**Your victims are countless scores of innocents**_," the tiger growled darkly.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Devon's link to the King was strong, and he was able to find him with ease. He landed them close but not on top of the location. They were in an antechamber, and Devon motioned the female guards to keep silent so he could assess just what the dangers were. Della glared at him and flexed her talon, but Daisy nodded in understanding and motioned to the Harpy to calm down. Devon looked in to the dimly lit chamber that had a bizarre glowing design on the floor. He could see Jareth clearly from where he was, he could also see the three who held him captive. He could also see that Jareth was not yet aware he was there, and he decided to keep it that way.

"Three little mortal witches, very young and untried it would seem…" He mused quietly to the guards; "Interesting."

"Interesting my ass," Della's voice was quiet but terse. "I'll teach them to go pulling Fae Kings out of the Fairylands."

Devon prevented her from moving forward. "There's no hurry, Jareth knows we're near by," he whispered lying to them. "I want to know what they wanted with Jareth… they must have spoken a specific spell to get him…now be quite so I can hear them." The female in the demon mask was clearly the leader of this little circle of witchlings, Devon mused to himself. It was obvious that she had a grudge against the handsome Goblin King. He heard her order the other two to move him to the unforgiving looking chair that was just outside the circle and within a strange symbol of its own. All the symbols were connected and glowed with the energy of the earth itself. The chair was wooden and had straps and metal bands on the legs and arms. With the King in the net it was easy to move him as he was weakened by the little leather beads. Devon heard Della growl behind him and had to give her a warning glance to warn her not to give them away. He watched as the Red Wolf and insane Tiger pushed the King into the chair, securing him and then removing the net.

Jareth pulled at the bands and frowned, the leather protected his limbs but he could feel the iron in the bands weaken his powers. "Ladies, I assure you this is not necessary." He tired to reason with them again.

"But we think it is," The Tiger purred as she moved closer and licked her lips invitingly. Lilith breathed in his scent and purred like a great cat. "Now be a good boy…" She grabbed his face and laughed.

The Demon cleared her throat and the Tiger backed off reluctantly. "How do you plea?"

Jareth leaned back; he looked at the Demon with interest. She was the only one of the three who had not made any physical contact with him. That intrigued him, giving him pause. "Of what am I accused?" The Goblin King smiled cunningly, he breathed in the scent again. Familiar and yet so out of the ordinary, he could not place it. Yet there was something about this bizarre young mortal woman that was so damned familiar to him. He wished she'd look directly into his eyes; he wanted to see what he could read off her soul. "Oh come now, Ladies… Three fine young witches and a very healthy Fae King could spend this Samhain night far more pleasurably than this… Be good little girls, release me and I shall be most happy to… show you."

The Tiger giggled, looking down at the manly bulge in the King's pants. "I'll bet aroused he's hung like a prized Bruma bull." She quipped. Both the other witches shot her a look that put her back in her place, but not before she blew a pouting kiss to the King.

Devon in his hiding place snickered into his glove imaging what his cousin was thinking.

"Do you deny that you take children?" The Demon questioned.

"No," Jareth rested his head on the back of the chair, totally unrepentant of what he didn't see as a crime. "It has been the duty of the Goblin King since the first Goblin was created by the One."

The Demon woman ignored his pious response, and moved a red bead, that was with many red beads on a pipe. "Guilty." She said.

"Do deny that you bargain with children the fate of other children?" The Wolf asked quietly.

Annoyed, Jareth wondered who had supplied these little witches with information that was not known outside the Goblin Kingdom. "I would not put it that way exactly." His words came out terser than he'd have liked. He wanted to keep thing benign with these witches while his cousin scoped out the situation. He wondered why he could not feel Devon near, and knew he'd wait until he showed up. He wondered how he was going to keep the three little witches occupied until then.

The she Red Wolf frowned darkly clearly unhappy with his response. "How would you put it?"

He didn't recognize the scent that the she wolf gave off, and dismissed her as being a minion, just as he was dismissing the she tiger. However he could see the red she wolf was more important in this game than the aggressive tiger was. Still, it was the silent and angry demon that interested him. He refused to say more.

The Demon seemed to know what his game was. "We know who you are, Goblin King," she said getting his full attention while keeping her eyes averted from his. "We know what you do… and how you trick children." Her voice dipped lower, becoming a growl.

"You three are not children," he said trying to draw the Demon out. "I've no quarrel with you, why make one with me?"

"No, a child is not your… equal." She agreed. "However we are and it falls to us to punish you for your crimes." She placed her hand on another red bead and moved it across. "One for each of the hours you force helpless children to wander the Labyrinth."

Jareth no longer sat relaxed, he had shot up to an upright position. "How do you know of the Labyrinth? Even those who have run it have it wiped from memory once they return…"

The Demon made sure not to make eye contact, fearful of discovery. "You abuse your power as a Fae, and as a King." She moved another bead. "You break the Laws of Eschaeat in your dealings." Another bead was moved. "You lie," another bead; "You cheat, and you steal." More beads until there were thirteen in all. "For each bead, there will be an hour of reprisal." She waved a hand at the bar. "Thirteen in all… the same amount of time you give to those who accept your challenges."

Jareth pulled at the metal binding, but it held. He found he could not use his magic, and he began to wonder just what this angry witch had in mind as retribution and reprisal. He also wondered if the metal was interfering with the mind link, as he could not get a clear bead on his cousin's location. "Go no further with this," he warned. "I can forgive the interruption of my life, and I can forgive the intrusion into my Samhain night if you release me now. Take this any farther and I will be forced to retaliate. You won't find that amusing, Ladies." He softened. "Release me, we will let bygones be bygones, and I will fulfill what ever wicked little fantasy pleases you."

Tiger leaned to his ear and whispered something that caused the King to look at her with alarm.

Devon had never seen this kind of alarm on Jareth's features; he wondered what the Tiger had said for Jareth had something on him that blocked the exact words. All Devon knew was it was a threat, and Jareth was taking it seriously. Della looked at him and motioned that she wanted to go save the King. Devon shook his head and waved her back. There was still much he had not figured out about the trio. He saw that the King was in no immediate danger, and wondered to himself how Jareth liked being kept waiting for rescue.

Demon snapped her fingers and the Tiger moved back looking unhappy at being chastised again. "It's true I can not give you the same treatment that you give to runners," she stated coldly. "I have no maze for you to run, no traps for you to fall into, no blockades to bar your way, I can however give you thirteen hours of exquisite torture, in repayment for what you've given." She was now moving about him in a circle. "If you've noticed, that chair you're seated in is hinged…. It was made for a very special purpose… This place was once where they housed the mentally imbalanced and insane… That chair was used in the treatment of the insane."

Jareth looked down at the chair, she had not lied, the bloody thing was hinged. "And what do you intend to do with this arcane thing?"

The Demon pulled a leaver, the back of the chair went down and the area that had been at the King's legs rose up. Soon he was laying back on a make shift table, with his limbs bound. "Hour one has begun," she said locking the table ridged. "Let his punishment begin."

Devon held Della back, his eyes warned her not to give them away. "So far they've done little more than talk… he can take that." He whispered.

Della frowned, "I hope you are not paying him back for letting you sit in that tower."

"Della," he cooed. "I'm wounded." He looked back at Jareth and vowed quietly to himself he'd not let it go too far…should the king be in any real danger he'd end this little party even if Jareth didn't want it ended by that point.

Jareth sighed, "I'd like to know what you intend to do."

Tiger moved forward, in her hand was a long feathery covered article. "This is called a French Feather Tickler," she said making suggestive movements in the air with the wispy thing. "In the right hands it can give such decadent pleasure." Swiftly she whipped it down across the King's chest, letting it land with some force. "Then again, it can be just as painful as it was pleasurable." She looked at the Wolf, "I need his jacket open, would you mind?"

Jareth watched the change in the aura of the she wolf; it went from green and gold to a muddy red. It was evident to him that the she wolf didn't care for the tiger, nor did the tiger care too much for the wolf. He looked past the bickering if wordless pair to the pacing demon. "Can't punish me yourself?" he taunted haughtily, "I see you have to have minions do it for you."

Without turning to look at his she replied coldly. "We all have minions, do we not, your Majesty?"

Eyeing the girl with the tickler in her hand, Jareth wondered if he would be able to reason with this trio before he had to call in his reserves. He smiled cunningly at the tiger. "Do your worst," he teased.

Dark eyes filled with angry flames as she changed the way she held the implement, she looked at the Demon to be sure she was not observing her. Once sure she was in the clear she brought the long shank down swiftly. It left a red welt, and the King grimaced. Looking over her shoulder she knew she could not get away with too many such strokes. She moved her hand up the shaft of the implement and began to use the feathers to stroke the sensitive skin of the Fae. "Enjoy it while you can," she murmured in his ear. She moved the feathers down his chest, over the outer thigh and slowly she began to stroke the inner thigh until she let the stick reach his manhood. For the better part of an hour the young woman fiendishly toyed with his senses. She showed no signs of intending on stopping. When she mounted the table and straddled the man, the Demon began to growl. As if not hearing her, the Tiger masked girl began to lower herself down as if to mount the King.

"Enough," the Demon snapped her fingers.

"I'm not done," the Tiger growled.

"Yes, you are." Demon didn't even raise her voice, but the words and tone were one of authority.

Jareth took a deep breath, resenting the fact that he had been aroused and also denied. He readjusted his thoughts, trying to make his connection with Devon. He could see a showdown coming between the Demon and the Tiger and his bets were on the Demon.

Once the tiger backed away, the leader, moving around the reclining chair in a circle spoke again. "That was not too hard, was it? No, just as the first hours with in your Labyrinth were not too hard…" She shuddered, but kept walking. "Simple things that get taken for granted."

Jareth watched her with feral eyes, the eyes of a bird of prey. She was on edge, and suffering, the pain and anguish were dripping off of her. He could smell not fear, but anxiety. "Let me make this easy for you," he offered in an almost croon. "Release me now and I shall forgive and forget."

"Go to hell," she said over her shoulder, again refusing to make eye contact. She motioned the she Wolf.

The red She Wolf moved forward with a rolling tray. On the top surface of the stand was a bowl of molded ice on sticks. Reaching into the bowl, the young woman chose a stick; she gently applied the cool wet ice to the throat of the King. The ice was cold, stinging the skin as it made first contact Jareth gasped lightly and winced.

Devon in his hiding place, amused by the ploy kept an eye on Jareth's reactions. So far the Goblin King seemed more amused than bemused. He motioned to Della to stay ready and keep an eye on the perimeter in case the witches had reinforcements. He winked down at Daisy with whom he had no argument. The little Goblin woman rolled her eyes and leaned on the wall.

Slowly the She Wolf began to make little circles, first in the hollow of the King's throat, moving ever so slightly making sure she was in constant contact with the King's skin. She soon migrated the long piece of ice up to the chin, then over the King's lips without allowing him to really enjoy it. She then moved down his throat again until she began to make slow lazy circles down his open shirt over his chest. Keeping her eyes clear of emotions, she watched as he began to clench his hands in an effort to keep control. When her hour had finished, he was barely holding on. Without the hesitation or vindictiveness of the Tiger, the She Wolf tossed the remains of her ice into the bowl and rolled the tray back away from the reclining chair.

Setting his jaw, fishing for the mental link, Jareth let his eyes focus on the Demon who still refused eye contact. "I would think," he taunted cockily; "That taking on one of my ilk you'd wish to gloat."

"In time, perhaps," she murmured. "But this is just the first hours…and we've eleven more to go." She snapped her gloved fingers, and the Tiger came forward with a rolling tray that held a bowl of warm water and a natural sponge. She followed the same trail as the She Wolf had, but with less caution and attention to details. Still it had the desired affect on the King.

"Comfy?" she whispered in the King's ear as she moved to behind his head. "Don't be…" she warned. "You're not getting out of this alive, if I have any say."

Jareth heard the click of his jaw hinge as he set it. 'Devon, where are you?' his mind demanded.

Devon, for his part stood in the antechamber watching, so far he saw little danger even if the Tiger thing was intimating there was.

Hour three passed and then four and five, at the end of the fifth hour the Demon moved to the table, but stood so the man could not see her eyes, not directly. He was tense as she raised a hand, in which was a cruel looking collar. Something about the collar sent shockwaves through him. Wordlessly she placed it about his neck and tightened it. "Feeling a bit of pain?" she asked watching him writhing. "Good!"

"I order you to release me now," he growled angrily.

"Yeah yeah, order away," she placed her hand on the table. "For what little good it will do you."

Hour six passed, and he was showing signs of being this side of fury. They had used feathers, ice, warm water, fur pelts, hot wax and the collar. He pulled at the restraints but could not free himself. "Damn you three to hell!" he snapped at the end of hour seven and the use of a prickly rubber ball rolled over his now ultra sensitive skin.

Hour eight brought a new wickedness to the forefront, as the two minions fastened shakes to his wrists before releasing the iron bands that held him to the chair. The Demon used a remote control that raised his arms hulling him out of the chair that was pushed out of the way. Inch by inch he was pulled upward. The Demon took a full hour to stretch him upright.

Della nudged Devon and made a face, he motioned her to be still.

Hour nine the three produced silken whips and began to apply them to the King. Not hard enough to do any permanent damages, but firmly enough to cause him to wince once or twice. He glared at the Demon who still resisted eye contact. Hour ten he was shoved into the cage where he went to his knees gasping for air. Devon suddenly understood, the cage was iron. He signaled the two guards to prepare. The Demon woman also went to her knees to taunt the King up close.

"In pain? Suffering? Feeling lost and alone?" She shuddered with pain herself. "Good, I want you to feel everything… all the pain… all the isolation!"

The ground beneath the King's hands was filled with energy; he drew from it as he raised his face up and came face to face, eye to eye with his tormentor. The hot lava that flowed in them could not disguise the incredible pale jewels that watched him. Perhaps because of the hours of pain and deprivation, he had no real recognition of the eyes, beyond finding them oddly familiar. He snorted and breathed deeply glaring with abhorrence at the creature he now found insufferable. "This is your last chance, bitch…." He growled. "Free me…"

"Or what?" she taunted in a matching growl. "What can you possibly offer me?" She began to laugh cruelly. "Perhaps my dreams?"

Not truly hearing what she'd said, only knowing she was off her guard with the taunting and the need to be hurtful, he thrust his hand though the bars before she could react. His hand clamped on her throat, pulling her into the bars and dazing her.

"Now!" Devon ordered as the two other witches moved to rescue their leader. He cast a spell to immobilize the two where they were. He and the guards moved forward as the king held the struggling dazed and choking leader in a near death grip. "Open that thing and get him out!" he ordered Della and Daisy as he stood back at a safe distance. "Get that collar off him, It's iron, and it's killing him."

"Not nearly as quickly as this one thought it would." Jareth snarled, still holding his hand about the Demon's throat. "Devon hold this bitch," he shoved her back as Della and Daisy helped him to his feet. They pulled him out of the cage, and carefully Daisy removed the collar. Della moved toward the Demon masked creature, her talons fully extended ready to slash. "NO!" the King ordered. "Not yet…" He leaned on Daisy for support. "String the bitches up here in their circle… let's get a look at them." Della and Daisy shackled the wrists of all three in turn, and hulled their arms above there heads. Jareth looked at Devon, miffed but understanding the reason his cousin had allowed this to go on. "Even," he whispered to a smiling Devon who muttered back something that had the King amused. Once the three witches were secured, Devon released the spell that had immobilized the minions. Jareth had blood on his lips where he'd bitten down several times. He glared at the trio, and moved to the red haired girl. He pulled off her mask. "I don't know you," he tossed the mask aside. Grabbing the tiger mask roughly he pulled it off as well. "I don't know you either, but you obviously have some quarrel with me…looks like you don't get to end my life…this time… _**kornga**_," he let the spray of the blood from his lips spatter on her. Now he turned his attention to the Demon who was struggling with her bindings and writhing like a fish on a hook. "So it all comes down to you… Just who are you?" He viscously took hold of the mask and ripped off her face. What he saw froze his heart, and burned into his mind. She was older, more womanly, but there was no mistaking that face, nor those eyes… 'Your eyes can be so cruel.' He dropped the mask to his feet; slowly he ground it under one heel. "Sarah," his anger registered as the name didn't come out like a caress, but like a curse. "We meet again."


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15. Repercussions and consequences**

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

**Author's Note:**

**Yep it's a warning…**

**Sex, violence and everything you perverts have been **

**waiting for.**

**So,**

**read at your own risk.  
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Devon blinked, the only sign that he'd been taken off guard. "Sarah?" He repeated to him self. "This is your Sarah? Cousin, you never said _**she**_ was a … _**witch**_," even without the King answering him, the Fae Lord understood things were about to take a new and exciting turn. Because Jareth had altered memories of subjects, and the Goblins had disinclined and or had been reluctant to speak of the Girl, he had only had his imagination to fill in the blanks. Now, here in the flesh was not only the only being to ever complete the King's Labyrinth, but two more little mortal temptresses. "Well, well, well," he mused. "This gets better and better." Devon smirked behind a gloved hand.

Jareth moved closer, and the writhing and wiggling girl went suddenly still; her eyes widening in rage and resentment. "Missed me so very much you had to conjure me up, did you?" The Goblin King crooned like a ravenous lover long deprived of his wanton partner. Whether through exasperation or shock, Sarah had seemed to have been rendered speechless. When she tried to look away, one long gloved hand moved into her hair, knotting his fingers and yanking her head back just a bit to force her to look at him. "You really didn't have to go to all this trouble, bringing outsiders into our… mêlée. I should think it would have been better kept private … all you had to do was _**use your right words**_." His voice was laced with harshness yet with a heavy layer of sexual tensions. His face only inches from Sarah's, he growled from the back of his throat, his mouth moving to help release some of the tension.

Sarah's mouth mirrored his in smaller contrast, as she reacted to the unexpected heady rush of sensation his touch had released. Her breathing became heavy, and labored. "Fuck off, you ponce," she growled from the back of her throat.

Lilith reacted to what she felt was clearly a physical assault on Sarah. "Get your hands off her you fucking asshole!" she growled violently. "Sarah's not yours…. You've done enough to her." She growled like a tigress protecting something belonging solely to her. "No one touches Sarah, no one."

"Oh, no one touches her, do they?"He addressed the Greek girl with maddening calm. "I can hardly believe that," he taunted softly with his hand still knotted in her long wild hair. "And you think I've done enough to her, have I? Have I indeed?" Jareth's eyes had not left Sarah's pale jewels that were widening with edginess. He could see no fear in them, only heat and delicious little flames on the verge of igniting. 'My turn to be cruel,' he mused to himself. "No, I've not even begun to do enough to dear little Sarah. My, my…" he cooed to the girl before him, staring at him with faintly excited eyes. "How you've…grown, not such a little girl anymore are you." He looked over at the minions. The Wolf was looking apprehensive and troubled; while the Tiger was looking threatened by his nearness to Sarah. He knew territorial behavior, having displayed it more than once himself. It was evident to him that the Tiger felt that Sarah belonged to her, and no one else. The Greek girl had not even shown the least concern for her companion in the wolf's mask; she had eyes only for Sarah. The red wolf on the other hand was watching him far more quietly and subjectively.

Turning back to Sarah, he let his eyes rake over her, taking in the shapeliness she'd grown into. "This is a new look for you," he mocked lightly in a growling voice that dripped sexual fascination. "As I recall you were far more modest and reserved… covering up your burgeoning figure in a loose fitting poet's shirt." Purposefully he drew back the sided of the Bolero vest, revealing the hinted breasts beneath. Her nipples were erect and rose; lightly he allowed his gloved hands to brush over the hardened buds until they were centered in his palms. With the touch of an expert, he made slow tight circles over the buds until the girl's breath came sharply from her throat. He could hear Lilith railing behind him as he reached downward with both hands to untie each side of the bikini bottom with one swift pull. His eyes and those of the girl were now locked. She swallowed, her lips trembled, and she shuddered with anticipation. The leather that covered her feminine sex lips was now tossed over one shoulder of the angry King. He had not even bothered to look at the material that had covered her sexual center. His stormy eyes were merciless, and unforgiving in his triumph.

"Let's see what we have," he moved his hands over her hips as he turned her sideways. He smiled over at Lilith gleefully tormenting the Greek witch before turning his gaze upon Sarah's backside. "Lovely, nice round buns," he gave one of Sarah's rounded ass cheeks a smack. She yelped in surprise and astonishment, the first real sounds from her since she'd gone silent under Jareth's intense sexual gaze. Laying his hand on the girl's bottom he felt her quiver slightly under his touch. "Firm," he commented darkly; "Beautifully formed. Just one thing missing from such a lovely pair of hot buns," Jareth growled sexually; moving so he was directly behind Sarah, but was visible in a profile view to Lilith. He opened the drawstring of his breeches, releasing his fully aroused coiled shaft. Spreading her ass-cheeks he placed the barbed coil between them, then pressing them back around his shaft he began to hump against her. "That would be…butter." He pumped harder and harder. Sarah's eyes opened wide as she began to unwillingly respond to his touch. Her head had turned and she looked over her shoulder, down at the King's muscular leg, her lips parted as she mewled. She had moaned involuntarily, but then found herself pressing against him, hungry for what he was awakening in her, yet he was skillfully depriving her of release. Chained hanging and helpless, used by the King for the purpose of humiliating both Sarah and Lilith. Perhaps more Lilith, who was watching in utter dismay as Sarah responded to the King, even begging him not to stop. Jareth let the creamy flow that was released spurt over her backside. He purred into her ear, and she swallowed the ashamed sob that was caught in her throat. Jareth knew it had not been nearly enough to give her release, and he wanted her to suffer as they had made him suffer this night. The Goblin King looked over at Lilith as he move back to stand face to face with the girl who he'd just assaulted. "Are you hot for me, baby?" he asked moving his gloved hand down between the clean shaven folds of her nether lips. Her glistening sex juices covered his fingers; he arrogantly raised them so Lilith could see then slipped them into his mouth and licked his fingers clean. "Damn good." He said as he nosily cleaned his fingers.

Devon had noticed that the girl with red hair had lowered her eyes and would not watch as the one Jareth had called Sarah was humiliated. He was mildly intrigued by this rare show of deference, and he moved closer to the little creature hanging helplessly. He covered his mouth with his right hand to murmur quietly. "Oh now, that's just mean." The girl with moss green eyes looked at him accusingly. He gave her a wicked little wink, before looking over at the Greek girl who was seething with hate. But neither girl was as interesting to him at the moment as his cousin was. This was the first time in years that Devon could remember Jareth doing anything remotely sexual. "You're not going to… finish her here and now?" He asked coyly.

Jareth didn't even bother looking at his cousin as he commented; "Always leave them wanting more." He heard the other Fae man snicker, and agree.

"You bastard," Lilith screamed vehemently. "Leave her alone, she's not yours," stormily she raged at him. "She's not yours! You have no right…"

"Of course she's mine," Jareth said showing no signs of how weak he still was. His throat burned, as did his wrists and his ankles. Everywhere he'd been touched by the iron implements there were burns and blisters. Having to endure the cage had been the last straw, and he was only holding on by shear tenacity and the energy emulating from the ley lines. The arrogance of the Greek rubbed him the wrong way, and he needed to teach her a well deserved lesson. Running the tip of his tongue over his lips, he licked off the last of Sarah's glistening love juices. "_**She **_has always been mine," once more he dipped his gloved fingers into Sarah's hypersensitive sex folds, roughly this time, with more force than he'd used initially. Sarah groaned as her head fell back, helplessly she began to grind on his dancing leather clad fingers that were now dipping in and out of her in a wicked ballet of sexual foreplay. "Not convinced?"

"Sarah, I know it's not your doing! Be strong, fight him, and tell him you don't want him!" Lilith begged before railing at the man standing beside Bryn. "You got what you came for… take your bogus King and his dodo bird and that ugly thing there and go!" Wildly the Greek kicked out her feet, hoping to connect with one of the Fae or the winged creature that was gawking at her mockingly. She knew she would never be able to strike a blow on the King or the little female creature glaring at her.

Clucking his tongue to his cheek, Devon sniffed. "I don't think the little Greek likes us."

"Dodo?" the Harpy moved forward, but the King stopped her with a gentle 'ahem'. Della moved back, letting her wings twitch before taking a stony stance.

Jareth removed his fingers, this time pressing the juice covered fingers into Sarah's mouth. Lilith cried out bitterly, as Jareth looked at her with a victorious sneer. He turned his face to that of the girl sucking on his fingers eagerly. 'So hungry,' he mused as he watched the girl with wicked pleasure. 'I shall keep you hungry for a bit longer, little bitch.' He removed his fingers and watched as Sarah begged him for more not with words but with her eyes, her cruel and beautiful eyes.

"You bastard," Lilith struggled to kick out her feet at him. "She doesn't want you! You are not what she needs."

"Not convinced of whom she _**wants**_, or what she needs?" Jareth was looking at Lilith vindictively. "This should settle it then," He moved to go down on one bent knee, his right hand cupping her derrière, as his shoulder pressed into the opening of her legs. Sarah's eyes bulged before her head rolled back. Devon murmured approval and gently applauded from where he stood beside Bryn who was trying not to look. Lilith's only reaction was an agonized whimper.

Jareth knew much more about sexual foreplay than Sarah had imagined was possible. His tongue easily found the swollen nub, torturing it tenderly while his hand gently squeezed the roundness of her shapely bottom. The girl starving for any touch was overloading on his wicked tongue. She felt the first wave of the orgasm hit her like a Mack truck. The second one left her panting for mercy; the third had left her moaning his name. Quickly he stood up and took her mouth, the taste of her sex juice fresh on his tongue as he rammed it sadistically into her. One hand moved back to her soft wet folds, the other began to move over the charm covered breast under her leather jacket. Devon could see how undone Lilith had become by the sexual heat that was between Jareth and the girl he was close to devouring, and he began to loudly applauded and cheer. For Devon this was a weight lifted from his shoulders, his cousin had not lost his appetites.

Della sniffed the air sharply, eyes widened with recognition of the scent. Curiously her gaze went to Daisy who was wearing a satisfied gleam as well as a sadistic smirk. Daisy inclined her head slightly to look over at Della who frowned, before shrugging and vowing to down a flagon of cheep ale at the expense of the Goblin maid.

Jareth's fingers were biting into Sarah's flesh, his kiss had left Sarah shaken and overwhelmed; he pulled back and looked at Lilith with an expression of triumph of conquest. "Mine," he sneered arrogantly. "All mine, as she has always been. _**I**_ took her first kiss, and _**I**_ will have her last as well,_** I'm**_ the only one with whom she comes _**alive**_," he was using every bit of reserve to appear vigorous and dynamic, "Now, what to do about you three little magic using bitches."

Again Lilith struggled with her bindings; her wrists were becoming raw with the friction. Bryn looked at the King with weary eyes, before looking over at the humiliated Sarah. Lilith was the most vocal at the moment, demanding that they be released. "You can't do this! You do not have the right to judge us. This is breaking the Escheats, you bastard. But than that's what you've done all along, isn't it?"

"Now that would be true had I been the one who had orchrastrated an attack against you. However, seeing that you three bitches decided to attack me…and you used magic to do it." He paused to look over at Lilith with a menacing glare. "It's you who broke Escheat, not I."

The Greek girl stared at him in disbelieve, turning to Bryn for answers. "What the hell is he talking about?"

Devon supplied the answer; "The moment you three took up practicing magic, you became Kithain, and subject to the Escheat yourselves." He smiled up at the red haired girl. "I would have thought you'd have understood that, Cariad." He knew the girl understood what he'd said by the stunned look she shot his way. He winked at her, she looked away, peeved.

"We were helping Sarah get back at that bastard," Lilith was still protesting, unwilling to see that they were guilty of having broken Fae laws, or that they should be subject to said laws. "You stole her dreams!"

Jareth looked at the Greek and laughed in her face. "Is that what the little minx told you?" He now was clicking his tongue at Sarah; "Shame on you for misleading your friends. Did you not tell them how you had a choice and refused your dreams?" The Goblin King took great pleasure in his admonishing of the three, but especially Sarah. The bewilderment and pa puzzlement in her eyes was as fresh as the fear that had been there that night long ago when he'd first made himself known to her.

Bryn was paying more attention to the conversation than Lilith was. "What do you mean she had a choice?" She twisted to look at the King.

Devon crossed his arms, trying not to snicker too loudly. "He gave her a choice of her brother or her dreams. She refused the dreams."

"There was no choice!" Sarah protested loudly. "What kind of choice is that?"

"And you stole her dreams when she took the boy back," accused the Greek.

"No, I didn't steal her dreams," Jareth looked at Sarah with sinister eyes. "I have no need to steal what is mine. She forfeited the dreams in place of the boy…" On his mind was the orb sitting at his bedside. "So I merely harvested them. To be enjoyed at my leisure. And very entertaining they have proven… I've spent countless hours wandering in and out of your…exquisite little fantasies."

Lower lip trembling Sarah gasped. "You never said anything about a choice… you lying, manipulating, rotten…"

"Would it have made a difference," he taunted excitedly. "Would you have really chosen any differently?"

Lilith swung her legs, aiming for the King. "You have no power over us!"

"Wrong," Jareth interjected bitterly, harshly turning on the hanging girl with rage ready to detonate. "You waged war on me, and lost…" He looked over at Sarah in a sinister way, knowing that showing attention to her was what upset the Greek the most. "You used magic to wage your little war, and that puts _**you**_ in direct violation of Escheat; which means, _**you**_ are now the _**spoils**_ of _**war**_. You three gave me power over you when you began this war and lost." He clasped his hands behind his back and paced. "Can't have you three playing with magical matches anymore as someone might get burned." He snickered even as the blisters were rising on his scared throat. "So _**I**_ have to punish you for being naughty little girls." He paced in the center of the pentagram. "And this punishment must fit the crimes…I can't have you three together, so I'll just have to separate you."

Hearing what she perceived as a threat, Sarah began to struggle again. "Jareth, leave them alone," she raged. "This is between you and me."

"It was," he agreed moving closer but still not within her swinging and kicking legs. "I would have been more than happy to offer you a rematch, privately. You brought them into this, and now all three of you will have to suffer the consequences." He could feel the wound at his lip begin to bleed once more, and wiped the blood away with a fist. "I can not have three loose canon witches running amuck here Above…"

"I'm warning you, you stupid fucker," Sarah snapped waspishly. "Leave them alone."

Weary from hours of sensory overload, deprivation, and the poisons the iron had released, he viciously gripped the girl by the throat. "Hear me, bitch," he spat angrily; "I will tolerate no more of this! It is time the magic users and community here above remember whom they are dealing with…. You three will be the examples…"

"What magic community?" the gagging girl challenged. "We acted on our own."

Jareth shook his head, "I doubt that," he motioned about the chamber at the furnishings and the amassed implements on tables, trays and carts with his still free hand. "You three didn't put this together alone, and your helpers have some knowledge of magic, even if they didn't discuss it with you." He forcefully released her throat. "Above or below, I am a King… and waging war on me will bring death and destruction." He glared at Sarah wanting nothing more than to deliver to her doorstep the pain she'd delivered to his.

Devon cleared his throat to get Jareth's attention. When his cousin glanced his way he smiled. "A boon, cousin," he requested pleasantly.

"A boon, for what?" Jareth asked slightly amused by Devon's distraction.

"Why the rescue, of course," Devon remarked with mock hurt while he shushed Della's protest. "Give this one to me." He looked at the girl with red hair and green eyes gasping at him in disbelieve. "You want them separated, give me this one and I'll promise you she'll never bother you again. I'll keep her far too busy to worry about bothering you, cousin"

"Are you out of your mind?" Bryn at long last found her voice, and it was clearly unhappy. "I'm not going anywhere with you!"

"Cariad, I assure you I'll be much better than other possibilities he'll come up with… there's the Bog of Stench, the oubliettes, and you don't even want to know the fiery gang…" Devon teased playfully forgetting for a moment the serious nature of this action taken by the three. His eyes danced with merriment as he gazed up into the mossy green eyes of the perky red haired witch.

"I am not your sweetheart, you _**pen-coc**_," she growled tossing in the Welsh cuss.

"_**pen-coc? I like that!"**_ Devon gave her backside a sound swat. "I must have her, cousin… She has fire and I love a challenge." He moved his hand to her bottom giving it a possessive pat. His eyes filled with lusty amusement.

Amused by the distress being displayed by the little redhead, and not feeling real malice toward her, Jareth nodded. "Done," Jareth said with a wave of his hand. "I have little concern for her, she's not really the trouble maker here… nor is our snotty little Greek for that matter." He moved closer to Lilith and could see her cringe. "This one is merely a parasite, feeding off the cast off energies of your little red head and my green eyed vixen. She has limited power on her own at best; lots of rage and bluster, but no real power." He pointed to the wiggling girl trying still to free herself. "No, this one is _**my **_trouble maker… as usual." He gave her rounded bottom a vigorous smack with the flat of his hand. She yelped, only to feel the hand come down on her again with forceful authority.

Della again showed her lethal talons, "Sire, say the word and she's bird feed."

Sarah didn't flinch in the face of danger, she glared at Jareth. "Yes Sire, say the word…. End my hell!" Her voice was angry and the words were spoken with a demanding challenge. "You always were good at letting others do your dirty work, weren't you? Let your parakeet here dip her talons in blood… end it, you fucking son of a bitch."

"I'll save you Sarah," Lilith promised softly. "I will never let him separate us… agapemou… I'll die with you or for you!"

Jareth jeered spitefully to the struggling Greek, "You can't even free yourself! And death is not an option for any of you," he moved back to Sarah. "End your hell, baby it's only just beginning… Now pull your claws in kitten, Daddy has work to do and you're distracting him… I'll be only too happy to continue where we left off when we get back _**home**_." Her reaction to the word gave him a wicked thrill. He pursed his lips and made a kissing motion before turning to Devon. "I'm going to have to take her back Underground. Back to the Goblin Castle;" He didn't sound pleased, and the look on Sarah's face was a dead give away she was not happy with the turn of events.

Devon moved closer to the King, the man was pale, more so than usual and his eyes were showing the intense level of pain he was working to control. Devon looked at the hideous marks the collar had left on his cousin's throat. "You need to see the healer," he murmured softly knowing Jareth would not wish to appear weak before these three. "We can bring them Underground, give them trial and sentencing there."

"No," Jareth said swiftly, pulling strength from the pulsing ley lines beneath the room. "Here, it must be done here…. I have no desire to have it known in the Underground that I was fool enough to be captured by three mortal witches."

"You're wounded, and exhausted, cousin," Devon reasoned softly now showing his concern for his King's condition. "You need a healer."

"And I will see one as soon as this is… finished." The King promised with his voice hardening, "I have to pronounce punishment." He pointed to Sarah. "That one should not have been able to escape the Labyrinth, and she won't escape retribution, not now."

"You could exile her to…" Devon began to think.

"No," The Goblin King frowned as he looked at the young woman who was the thorn in his side. "I have to keep her under lock and key myself… no one else can be trusted, that little minx has a nasty habit of turning people to her side… Remember what I told you about Didymus? Imagine were I to exile her, what fun she'd have turning my allies against me. No, I have to see to it she's in no position to gain sympathy from friend or foe. Furthermore, no one else must ever know what has transpired here."

"No one will," Daisy said curtly. "You've our sworn oaths, and Goblins will honor the code, Sire. Even against the one who bested the Labyrinth." Her hand was on the hilt of her sword, fidgeting and knotting. "What will you do about that one," she glared at the Greek. "It can cause trouble, above or below."

As the Goblin King began to ponder the problem observed by Daisy, Devon held up a finger, "Jareth, they are not wished away…nor are they likely to … cooperate with wishing each other away…. You cannot erase them from memory." He was looking from his cousin to the two females that were about to make the journey through the veil of mists that separated the Fairy world from the mortal realms. One looking furiously at the King, the other's eyes were busy casting daggers toward Devon himself.

Jareth shrugged, "Devon we must bind what limited powers the _**kornga**_ possesses. We must make it impossible for her to feed off the magical powers of others."

Devon moved closer to his cousin. "Will that be enough? Unbalanced as she is, she could still talk and convince someone of our existence. When that knowledge is given we want it on our terms." The Baron's words were firm and unyielding. "What ever we do it must be on the strongest of terms, and no quarter given…"

"No quarter given," Jareth agreed raising a gloved hand, "I here by exile you from ever setting foot on Fae soils, _**kornga**_." He felt the fabric accept his decree, assisted by the energy in the ley lines beneath the room. "As King of the Underground Kingdom of Labyrinthia, I banish you to the mortal realms and I here by bind your magic.

Devon looked toward the door, "Someone's coming, cousin. We must hurry." He warned Jareth.

Lilith opened her mouth and called out a name, "Bear!" she struggled with the shackles, uncaring of the blood now dripping down her arms; "Bear, help!"

Jareth glared at her, and flicked his wrist. She looked at him with a triumphant sneer. "Your efforts are futile and ineffective," he retorted calmly. "I've slowed time, and when your friends arrive we will be gone… and Sarah and the other will be gone as well." He froze her voice in her throat, not having the willingness to hear her again. "Take one last good look at Sarah you stupid girl… and know this… she would never have been yours. You could never ignite the fires within her, they belong to me. "

Sarah stopped struggling, having heard his words she shot a horrified look at Lilith. Suddenly she understood the Greek girl and was repulsed. "No," she gasped. "No, Lilith… I never said… or did… Lilith, you were my friend…"

Devon could almost feel sorry for both girls, had they not attacked Jareth. He looked over at the red haired girl; her sympathy was with the one called Sarah. Lilith wept shaking her head, making silent pleas toward Sarah for understanding and the return of the unspoken devotion she'd been showing her for years. Sarah turned her face away, repulsed by the other's ardor.

Cruelly Jareth snorted, enjoying the torment that both Lilith and Sarah were experiencing. "Your voice will return to you once we are gone, but I doubt any will believe your tale of woe… they will think your mind had finally truly snapped."

"Dear Goddess," Sarah screamed. "How can you abandon us?" Tears stung in her eyes as she raged. "How can you?"

Jareth looked confused for a moment, but Devon murmured to him. "They used one of the spells from the _**La Tène**_, asking Morrigan to aide them."

"Morrigan?" Jareth turned his fury on Sarah again, "Morrigan?"

"She didn't know," Bryn argued, needing to stand up for Sarah. "Lilith gave her the _**La Tène**_, but never told her what it really was, only that it would aide her in her quest…she hid her actions from me so I could not prevent Sarah from using the book. Lilith knew I'd never let Sarah use anything that dangerous."

"You say you love her, and yet you've led her down the path of her own destruction," Jareth spat in the face of Lilith. He moved back to the center of the pentagram, "I wish I knew the will of the Goddess, right now." He spoke without really thinking of what he was asking, nor of where he was standing.

"Our will is justice," a voice feminine voice filled the room, shaking it to the foundations and sending glass shattering in a shower that burst from the room. Beside the altar, a form was taking shape. Bryn looked at the glowing form and whispered the name of her Goddess; Lilith looked to see a Greek image of the Goddess forming. For Sarah it was images that were morphing into one another; Earth mother, maiden, warrior Queen and crone, all at once and separately. The image didn't look at any of the three fledgling witches, she was moving forward toward the Goblin King. In her hand was a sword, his sword. "Pronounce your sentence, and have justice." The Goddess offered the sword to the King. He took it slowly, reverently. Her hand raised in benediction, the Goddess blessed the Goblin King.

Jareth pointed his sword at the Greek girl. "No word of this will ever be believed from you if spoken. You are not welcome among the arcane, and will be scorn among the mundane." Lilith, seeing the Gods were on the Goblin's side, opened her mouth in a silent moan. Jareth pointed the tip of his blade at Bryn, "I give you as hostage to my cousin for your part in this plot." Then the tip was pointed to Sarah. "You shall pay for the crimes against a Fae King, Kithain Sarah Williams. You are here by taken as my personal property and subject to my will forever more." The blade glowed, energies poured from the tip of the blade engulfing Sarah who was struggling to avoid them.

Jareth looked to the Goddess, who was now beginning to vanish, her lips were moving and he nodded as he heard her commands. He looked at the walls and floor. "This place is built on old mines… I can smell the coal and the gasses beneath, it will cover our tracks. Quickly, we must be away." What strength he had left was beginning to ebb. He would have very much have liked to have sat down, but didn't wish to appear weak in any way before his enemies. And these three witches were just that. He took a deep breath, needing to return to the nurturing air and soil of the Fairylands.

He motioned Della to lower Sarah off the chain that held her but to keep her hands bound in the shackles that were closed around her wrists. "Take your prize," Jareth ordered his cousin, Devon reached up and the shackles and chain came down from the ceiling but remained attached to the girl he now hauled over his shoulder like a sack of wheat. Once Sarah was held steady in the grip of the harpy, Jareth began the destruction of the magical chamber. With a wave of his hand the floor beneath them began to rumble and quake. "Good bye, _**kornga**_," he said as the room exploded and she was forcefully hurled back though the opening into the antechamber no longer bound by the shackles that had held her during the trial. She had seen the King standing tall and proud, and triumphant as he vanished in a blaze of light with Sarah helpless at his side in the hold of the Harpy. Bryn's eyes had gone round and wide as the other man had smacked her soundly on her bottom. The room had exploded and they were gone and Lilith was left behind, alone and without the forces of magic that had disappeared with Sarah and Bryn.

Bear and Snake had been heading toward the chamber to see if the girls were finished with what ever their secret plan had been. They had been in the chamber for nearly eleven hours and it was almost dawn now. Bear heard Lilith call his name, but it was the rumblings under their feet that alerted him to danger. "What the hell is that?" He began to move swiftly toward the chamber's entrance.

The blast had been deafening, and the smell of coal gases filled the air. Bear and Snake had been knocked off their feet, but quickly recovered. They raced to the entrance of the building that was now a shambles. Bear spotted the crumpled girl, looking like a ragdoll lying on the cement floor. "Lilith," he shouted over the roar of more gasses being consumed by the fire that was engulfing what was left of the chamber. He heard the beams above them start to give way, "Snake, help me get her out of here."

"Sarah, he took Sarah," the girl whimpered pitifully as they freed her from the rubble that was pinning her down.

Bear looked over his shoulder at the raging fires, "Snake we got to move fast, there's bound to be another blast, that's coal gasses escaping into the chamber."

Snake looked toward the chamber. "Where are Bryn and Sarah? They were with Lilith, weren't they?"

"Gone," Bear said working faster as the ground beneath them rumbled yet again. "Move man, move."

The girl was freed, and Bear and Snake each took one of her arms to pull her out of the antechamber even as she protested being rescued. Out on the lawn they watched as the building was racked by a series of small explosions and razed by fire. In the distance, the scream of sirens could be heard. Bear looked at Snake and the girl. "Follow my lead…" Only Snake nodded, Lilith was too busy whimpering and whining over the loss of Sarah.

A county officer was the first to arrive. "What the hell happened? You fucking drug heads cook up some coke and blow up the building?" He accused coarsely.

Bear stiffened. "I don't do coke, none of us do…" He pointed to the building. "We were getting ready to shot a music video for an album we are recording here. Three of our girls were in the room we were going to use for the shoot… the ground beneath us rumbled like all hell was breaking loose…"

"Girls? I see just one here," the officer interrupted.

"Two other girls were in there with Lilith, they must have…" Bear closed his eyes and begged the Gods to forgive the white lie he was about to speak.

"They must have been caught in the blast." The officer finished for him. He moved away to speak into the microphone on his shoulder.

Since the officer was not speaking to him any longer, Bear went to sit on the ground with Lilith and Snake, taking the teary eyed girl into his arms. Making it look like he was soothing and comforting the frightened girl. His eyes warned Snake to keep to the story he was telling. Snake watched as the fire brigade pulled into the asylum gates. The heat of the fire was building, and the flames were licking the sky. There was one last explosion, the building crumpled and the flames collapsed into itself. Lilith buried her face into the vest of the man holding her, franticly moaning Sarah's name.

The Fire Marshall stood watching the smoldering remains of the building as the sun rose in the eastern skies. He looked at the three young people seated on the lawn. "I'm sorry but I've a few questions… and they can't wait."

Bear nodded, handing Lilith over to Snake, stood up and walked over to the man. "I'll be happy to answer any questions, sir."

"And you are?"

"Ari… Aristotle Karras, I'm the one who rented the asylum…" He placed his hands on his hips as he looked at the remains of the building. "We were setting up a recording studio here, for alternative music and music videos… we were planning on doing a dress rehearsal for one of our videos… the girls were setting up the staging area and practicing dance moves. You know... warming up" He looked at the girl covered in a blanket the firemen had tossed them for her.

"How many girls were there?" the Marshall asked quietly.

"Just the three," Ari whispered hoarsely. "Lilith Timofia, my girlfriend… and Bryn Cystennin and Sarah Williams… Bryn and Sarah were classmate friends and roommates with my girl at the University."

"And they were here to film a video?" The Marshall looked at him not quite believing him.

Slowly he nodded, "We got a grant from the Walker Foundation for our album and the videos we were planning to make," he drew a long breath. "God, I've got to call their families," he looked at the smoldering rubble. "I can only hope they didn't suffer." He looked at Lilith who looked pale in the morning light. "I've got to get her to a doctor… She saw it all…"

"I'm sorry sir, just one more question," the man taking notes said quietly. "Was there any warning?"

"You mean like the smell of gas or something like that? No, now if you'll excuse me…" He moved back to where Snake was helping Lilith to stand. "Get the car," he ordered as he cradled the girl. "We're getting out of Dodge, now."

Lilith looked up at him, "Sarah?"

"Sarah and Bryn are gone…" he warned darkly. "I want you to take one last look at the compound… because you are never to come back here." He half turned so she could see the smoldering remains. "I'm taking you to Doc Miller, and I'll call Bryn's and Sarah's folks from there." He strode down to where Snake was waiting with the car. "It's over Lilith, whatever you and the girls were trying to do, is over. Do you understand me?"

"But they are not dead," she choked out pitifully as she was placed in the back of Snake's old study car. "He took them…"

"Shut up, you stupid cunt," he growled fiercely making a fist. "It's over!"

Snake remembered Bryn's words; she had said her fate was linked to Sarah's. He whispered a prayer to the Gods and let go. He looked in the rear view mirror; Lilith looked like a pitiful ragdoll, broken and soul shattered and still trying to justify herself. Looking over at Bear he whispered. "She's lost it this time Ari; we can't trust her out on her own…"

"She won't be on her own, ever again." Ari said glaring at the girl. Reaching forward he ripped the silver pentagram from her throat. Swiftly he tossed it out the window. "Take off that nipple jewelry!" he ordered while snapping his fingers. "We don't want any link to the occult when we reach Doc's… and you are never to speak of this again, Lilith." He tossed the nipple rings and chains with its pretty charms out the window into the river as they crossed over the bridge. "It's over."

"But they are not dead," she protested.

"They may as well be," Ari announced turning to face forward. "They may as well be."

Snake drove ignoring the whimpering cries from the back seat.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

**Author's note:**

**I would like to thank my Sister Ann and my Friend Yodeladyhoo for the help they both gave me while I worked on this chapter. They were both their acting as sounding boards. **

**Words you may not know,**

Cariad Welsh for sweetheart.

_**Kornga **_ Greek word for little girl

_**pen-coc**_ Welsh cuss word for dick-head


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16. Vengeance and the King**

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

**Author's note:**

**Violence and torture**

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Sarah had seen the room swallowed up by flames, she'd felt the rumble of the ground beneath her feet. The last thing she had seen was Lilith being forcibly thrown through the doorway to the antechamber by the blast that swallowed up the chamber. As disillusioned by the Greek as she'd been, she still hoped the girl had not been injured. Nevertheless it was the talons gripping her she was giving her attention to. She'd not run into Harpies on her first journey through the Labyrinth. Her only knowledge of them was what she'd read in books of mythology. The talons were long and seemed to go from flexible to rigid at the will of their owner. They were like nothing Sarah had ever seen before, and she found her eyes glued to them as they held her firmly in place.

Jareth had brought them to the windswept hill just beyond the Labyrinth's gate. Here he turned to Devon, "Take your prize home, cousin."

The Lord Baron looked disconcertedly toward the girl being held by the Harpy. "And you? You can't just waltz her into the castle no matter how many memories you've shifted. It's far too risky." Devon had noticed the slight wince Jareth made when he'd used the word waltz. He regretted the use of that world the moment he'd spoken it. Knowing some of Jareth's past with this creature being held by Della gave him insights others would not have. However, now was not the time to worry over insights, nor even hurt feelings, the Baron was worry about the state of the King's health. He was going on raw nerves at this point, and Devon knew it.

Sarah looked sharply from the Baron to the Goblin King, what did the man mean? Whose memories had been shifted, certainly not hers; she remembered this place. She recalled the warm winds that first time, and the feeling of being in over her head. She also remembered her first view of the Labyrinth, as the sun began to rise on that windswept hillside so long ago. It was here she had nearly faltered in her quest to save Toby. Here the Goblin had tempted her by speaking into her ear and beseeching her to turn back. Below this hillside was the gate where she'd met Hoggle, although there seemed to be no sign of her friend and traveling companion now.

"Waltz her into the castle," the sarcasm in Jareth's tone caused the girl to shudder even while in the grip of the Harpy. "Hardly," he glared down at the girl who was refusing to cower; she'd controlled the shudder and suppressed it swiftly. Something within him found that refusal fascinating and stimulating, yet something equal to that aspect of the King's inner being found it a challenge and he had a desire to break her. But slowly, there would be no pleasure in a victory too easily won. "There'll be no waltzing this girl, not this time."

"Jareth," Devon sounded concerned, and the King shook his head and warned him off.

The Goblin King's attention was solely on Sarah, his eyes burned with fires kindled with pain and fury. "You gave me a taste of your …dungeon. Now I would like you to have a taste of mine."

"Do your worst," she challenged, glaring back at him even though she was held in the Harpy's clasp and the tips of talons were now leaving depressions in her arms.

Della sneered, "I doubt you have any idea of what our worst can be."

Bryn, still struggling on the Baron's shoulder, had turned her head when she'd heard Sarah's provoked challenge. She worried that Sarah was going to get more than she'd bargained for, "Sarah, no." Her sharp warning was going unheeded. "Don't antagonize them!"

Devon shifted her on his shoulder, "I will join you presently…" He warned his cousin. "Give me time to deposit my little bundle safely at my home."

"Suit your-self," Jareth said with cold aloofness. "You'll know where to find me." He stated as he began the spell to transfer them.

Bryn cried out, "Sarah!"

Devon watched as the group vanished, he heard Bryn's exasperated gasp and half uttered oath. "I'm afraid you're not going to be seeing your friend for some time to come." He said as he placed her on her feet. "Perhaps in the future, but for now…" He shrugged.

"You can't let him just …" She began to protest loudly. However one gloved finger silenced her.

"Cariad, be still," He took hold of the chain in his hand and the hillside vanished. They were now standing at the entry of a comfortable looking English styled country house. "I don't have a great deal of time, so please forgive me for this abruptness." He said as he opened the front door. "Mrs. Finch? Mrs. Finch!" he called out.

An older woman came hustling out of a corridor. "Dearie me," she exclaimed. "We were not expecting you home, my Lord…." She glanced at Bryn who discreetly covered herself and bushed a bit. "And with a guest;" The woman looked now at the Baron, waiting for orders.

"Mrs. Finch is my housekeeper," Devon explained to Bryn rather briskly. "This young lady will be my guest for some time to come," He winked at the housekeeper. "I should think the green suite would suit her," He instructed. "See to it she has a nice long bath and see if you can find her something more… appropriate to wear."

"Yes sir," the older woman said cheerily.

Bryn looked at him with suspicion and wariness; "Your guest?" Raising her hands she slightly rattled the chain and shackles. "Do you often entertain young women bound in shackles?" Her voice was thick with irony.

Devon uttered something under his breath she didn't understand, while aloud he said. "Damned thoughtless of me," he took hold of the chain and it vanished as did the shackles. "I would love to stay and see to your needs properly," He said hurriedly. "However there are more pressing needs than yours at this moment. I'll explain everything to you when I return," he promised holding her hands gently. "Until then, please, go have a nice bath, and rest, Cariad."

Mrs. Finch placed an arm about the young woman's shoulders and gave her an encouraging squeeze; "Don't you be worrying over the young lady, sir. She's in good hands." She addressed the girl. "You look like you could do with a nice cup of tea."

"That would be lovely," Bryn nodded as the elderly woman led her toward the stairs.

Devon watched for a moment, silently thanking the Gods yet again for having led him to Mrs. Finch. He knew with her in charge the mortal girl would be in good safe hands. He also knew that there was no way Mrs. Finch would allow her to even hazard a thought of escape. Not having to worry about the girl gave him the freedom to concentrate his thoughts on his cousin. He stepped out side the door of his cottage and closed his eyes to locate the other Fae. "The dungeons?" he frowned. "So be it," he muttered before vanishing in a mist.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

From wind swept hillside to the entrance of the dark recesses of a dank dungeon was a shock Sarah had not truly been prepared for. She had seen the tunnels under the Labyrinth, but they were dry, seemingly harmless enough. This place was anything but harmless. It was dark except for the baskets of burning pitch. The female Goblin reached over to the side of the entrance, retrieving a hand torch, lit it and led the way into the down shaft corridor to the dungeon's interior. The rough hewn steps that were cut into the stone that formed the foundations under the Castle were like the tunnels under the Labyrinth. Sandy colored and had flecks of something that sparkled in the flicker of the torch flames. The deeper they descended the darker the walls became, and the heavier the air, the odor of something foul having been burned hung like a fog in the atmosphere.

Daisy led the way down the steep passage followed by Jareth, who was at this point going on adrenalin and rage, not a good combination when he was at his peak; a dangerous one with him fighting the poisons in his system from exposure to iron as he was now. Behind Jareth Sarah was marched down the steep passageway in front of Della who was bringing up the rear. Her claw tips were beginning to dig slightly into the flesh of the girls' forearms as she complained about not being a gopher and hating having to be under ground. The Harpy had to pull her wings in tighter than she normally would, and had found that once or twice on the decent her wings had scrapped against the wall. This did nothing to improve her mood, nor did it endear Sarah to her. The Harpy groused about the moisture that was now seeping into her feathers and making her itch to get out of here.

Jareth ignored the complaints; he had more important things to worry over. He never once looked back over his shoulder; he knew the Harpy guard would make sure the mortal was delivered to the heart of the dungeon. "Welcome to my version of hell, Sarah." He said as they entered a subterranean chamber that was wide and high. Daisy moved from basket to basket lighting the fuel that was filled with in. It smoked and smelled foul and strangely familiar. It burned, but gave off very limited light, mostly it stunk. The chamber soon filled with this stench as well as the dank musty odors that clung to the walls already. "You are not the first guest to visit these chambers," he said casually; "Only the most recent."

Not wishing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her as weak, Sarah pretended to have little interest in this subterranean cavity. Keeping the Harpy holding her from digging its claws in was more important to her; however she could not help but notice the chamber they were now standing in. The room itself was not overly large but it did have a high vaulted ceiling, and that gave the room more depth. It was oddly shaped having been hewn out of the rocks. Each wall held a arched opening that led to dark corridors, and Sarah was sure she didn't want to go down any one of them. Unwillingly and against her will Sarah felt a shudder pass through her.

"Cold?" taunted the Harpy.

Jareth motioned the Goblin leading them onward; soon they were in a narrow hallway. It opened into a larger chamber that held the smell of rotting flesh and old blood. Again the Goblin began to light the wall torches and light baskets. This time she also lit the fuel inside stone basin braziers that were scattered though out this larger chamber. Jareth saw the flicker in Sarah's eyes as she recognized the features of this room. He would have preferred outright fear, but she was unwilling to grant that to him. "This chamber is reserved for the enemies of the crown…" he drawled moving toward one of the large wooden frames. "I'm sure you're familiar with the concepts behind most of these pieces. This one for instance," his hand rested on the rack lightly; "This is not so different from that lovely chair you had me seated in."

"Would you like to give this little thing a good stretching, Sire?" Della asked feeling resistance in the prisoner.

Feral was the only way to describe the expression in the heart of the King's stormy eyes. "Perhaps later, Della," he looked toward the raised rocks that formed a bowl and pointed to the rafter over it. "For now let's string our new guest up while I contemplate how to return her generous treatment of me while I was her guest." He moved to a heavy high backed wooden chair, and took a seat.

Della moved Sarah roughly toward the basin, violently yanking her arms above her head. Her still shackled wrists, fettered by the leather straps that held her, were now fastened to a hook that hung down from the rafter. The mortal girl cried out sharply when the Harpy dropped her allowing all her weight to pull on her shoulders, Della chortled. In retaliation Sarah whipped her legs about and dug one spiky heeled red shoe into the leg of the unprepared guard. Della raised her taloned hand, ready to strike only the King's growl prevented the Harpy from slashing the girl. Della moved back, flexed her hand and the talon retracted.

Jareth leaned both elbows on the arms of the wooden chair, steepled his fingers and became pensive. "How do I begin to repay your hospitality?" He watched the girl dangling; her feet were off the ground, with no means of being able to hold herself stable. "You were so very gracious, and I do so wish to return the act of kindness you showered upon me." Della stood back where the flaying girl could not reach her with an outstretched leg or foot. "Della," he said at last; "Remove those excuses for garments. Slash them off her, but take care you don't scratch Sarah's delicate hide."

The Harpy moved behind the girl who was trying to turn to prevent the order from being carried out. "Don't you lay a claw on me you overgrown parakeet!" she growled with bravado. "I'll tear each of those claws out and shove them into your ugly face."

"Mouthy, isn't she?" Della snorted placing a hand on the girl's shoulder from behind her to keep her in place. "Pity to waste nice leathers," she lamented.

"You may salvage what you wish," Jareth muttered watching as the Harpy drew a single talon claw from Sarah's shoulder up to her wrist. Half the bolero jacket fell aside showing the girls back. "Careful, Della." He warned as the girl shifted and pulled.

"I know what I'm doing," growled the Harpy moving the hand that hand done the slicing to the bare shoulder and fastened down without digging in. Her now free claw sprung to life and neatly sliced down the opposite arm, and the remains of the jacket fell into the basin below Sarah. Della looked down at the chaps that covered Sarah's legs. "Hold still," she warned the girl. "I should hate to damage either hide." Her talon retracted and she unfastened the belt at the girl's hipline. The ties on the back of Sarah's legs released easily and the chaps were added to the pile of leather beneath her.

Devon arrived and came sauntering into the chamber. He leaned on the side of the King's chair. "Have I missed anything?" he asked carelessly. His eyes however were vigilantly watchful of his cousin. He could see the man was going on reserves and would soon collapse.

"Nothing to speak of," Jareth said audaciously. "Leave the shoes," suggested the King, now leaning forward in the heavy chair, resting his arms on the wooden braces as he looked at the naked girl hanging helplessly. "And that thing she's sporting." He pointed to the nipple jewelry. Della shrugged as she moved to snatch the leathers out of the basin. The King waved her off, and looked at the womanly figure dangling before him. "Let me see, what was the first of your little kindness to me? Ah yes, feathers… how very original and ironic… you must have spent all of ten minutes thinking up that one." He rose from his seat, glad his cousin had not tried to offer help. Devon stood slightly behind the King, ready to act if needed.

Sarah gnashed her teeth as she watched him moving closer. Somewhere between the chair and the basin a long thick French Tickler of strange looking feathers appeared in his hand. "This," he said holding it eye level for her to observe; "Is a bit more substantial." Swiftly the wand end was swung through the air, coming down on Sarah's rounded rump and received a gasp of surprise from the girl.

"Feathers?" Della asked skeptically.

"Harpy and Roc feathers, Della," Devon said watching as the king applied the wand over and over to the girl until her skin began to welt. "The edges of the feathers are not…gentle." He observed the new look of respect that came to the Harpy's features. He also observed the mortal bite down on her lower lip and refused to cry out.

When the girl's backside was a bright cherry red, Jareth flicked his wrist. The tickler vanished, replaced by a long thick piece of ice on a stick. Without warning he slapped it down on the reddest portion of the girl's rump drawing the refused cry from deep within her. Devon winced seeing the ice stick to and pull the reddened skin from her hide in frozen scrapings. Little trails of blood began to ooze. Jareth moved the ice down her backside, slowly maneuvering it to between her legs and up to her shaven mound. She hissed and growled as he applied it to her swollen sex lips. Devon showed no concern, knowing his sympathies had to be with his King in this matter.

Jareth flung the ice aside; it hit the bottom of the basin and shattered into thousands of pieces. "You and your little friends were such gracious hostesses," he snarled as he formed a crystal in his hands that turned into a goblet of warm water. Callously he tossed the contents of the goblet to the girl's already abused backside. The heat burned the irritated skin and the girl moaned without restraint. "Baby, we've just started… and I'm not giving you a full hour of each of these samples of… amusement."

Devon shook his head, "Jareth…" he was worried, the man before him could not keep up this pace, he was showing signs of having been poisoned. "You've forever to exact payment in kind."

The King looked over his shoulder, eyes smoldering with fury, and poison. "Perhaps you have a valid point." He moved back to the chair. "Daisy," he pulled her closer with a hand on her shoulder. "Go to Joachim; tell him the King needs the rest of the set. Bring him to me."

Sarah panted, swallowed the blood and moisture gathered in her mouth. Looking up she tried to find a way to pull herself off the hook, but found no way. Helpless, angry, and growing desperate she looked over her shoulder at the King who in the dim lighting seemed hollow eyed. "Why don't you just kill me and be done with it, you fucking bastard?"

"There'll be no quick releases for you my nymph," Jareth snapped back. "I've yet to repay the full extent of your hospitality." Leaning back his eyes rested on her jewelry. "Della, remove that… trinket." He ordered; "Gently, if you will."

"Gently?" complained the Harpy.

Jareth nodded, a sadistic gleam filling his stormy eyes. "For now. Perhaps you best secure those legs before you do."

Della captured one leg and secured the ankle while avoiding the other with its lethal heel moving like a slashing claw. When the remaining ankle was fastened and fettered the Harpy ran its retracted talon tips over the girl's upper torso, teasing and taunting. The girl shuddered with each application of come into contact with the Harpy. Della looked over at the King; his eyes were gloating and urging her on. Della waited until she and Sarah had complete eye contact, she then pinched the nipples of the other girl as she removed the rings without loosening them. She saw the pain the other refused to voice as she clamped down her jaw. Moving back to the King she handed the chain with its dangling charms over to Jareth. Holding one hand over his chest, and the other to his chin, Devon watched.

Joachim arrived moments later, preceded by Daisy. He moved to the King, ignoring the mortal hung from the rafter. "You sent for me, Sire?"

"Yes, did you bring them?" Jareth leaned back, looking at the man.

"Indeed." He removed a package from his jerkin, holding it for the king to observe as he opened it. "Just as requested."

Jareth nodded, and drew a long breath as he stood up. "Della, it's time for you to exercise those lovely talons." He said moving forward. "I need a few perforation to be made in the hide of the prisoner… they must be accurate meticulous and precise in their placement. Start with her right nipple."

Della raised one brow, before turning her attention to the young woman who was fettered without hope of release. Sarah had called Della a parakeet, after Lilith had called her a dodo. Now the Harpy had itchy talons, Sarah, squirming on the chains, knew what is coming. Della tormented her by taking her time; "Call me a parakeet, will you? A sweet little songbird in a gilded cage?" The voice of the Harpy took on a sharpness that matched the talons she began to scrap along the wall to hone. "Well, my little chickadee, let's see how sweet your song can be." The talons of Della's right clawed hand Proceeded to manipulate Sarah's nipples for a rise. Sarah lashed out, but shackled by her wrists and ankles she was reduced to growls, howls, spits and gnashes her teeth at Della to stop. Della laughed and returned the display in kind with more untamed coarseness than Sarah could ever have mustered in this condition. Sarah, obviously terrified by the harpy felt her bravado flee as Della sunk a single talon into the raised bud of her breast, piercing the first nipple to Sarah screams. An expression of exhilaration formed on the Harpy's face.

Jareth smirked, "Sweeter song has never graced my ears. Let us hear that note again." Coldly he pointed to the other breast.

Della snickered brazenly as she repeated the scraping of the left talon on the wall to sharpen it to a honed finish that was deadly accurate. Again the Harpy repeated the manipulation of the second breast to raise the nipple. Sarah shivered under her manipulations, anticipating the painful jab, when it came she shut her eyes, screaming powerlessly. The talon slipped out of the perforation dripping with Sarah's blood.

"Beautifully sung, my little song bird," Jareth murmured dreamily, he held his hands out to inspect the workmanship of the items that Joachim still possessed.

"If they are to your Majesty's liking, I shall cut them open for you." The master metal worker said looking with pride at the items.

Jareth lifted one perfectly worked ring of silver appreciatively in his gloved hand; even in pain he betrayed no weakness or tremor. "Not necessary," Jareth muttered to him.

"Sire, how exactly do you intend to… insert a closed ring?" The man asked watching the king's anger building.

"Thusly," Jareth sent the item magically though the air and though Sarah's body lodging it into the perforation made by Della. Sarah shriek as the ring dropped into place and renewed the fresh pain from Della's talon. The first ring hung, pulling slightly on the tender perforation of skin and a droplet of blood appeared. Picking up the second ring before the girl could catch her breath he sent it to its new resting place in her second piercing.

The pain that shot through the girl buckled her knees and if she had been on her feet she'd have collapsed. Only the hook kept her from descending in a lump to the bowl of the basin.

Jareth picked up the last item in the case, and gave the empty container to Joachim appreciatively. He cupped the little ring in the palm of his hand, closing his long leather clad fingers over it. Snorting lightly he moved toward Sarah, "Your notes were sweet, however there is yet one note I desire to hear wobble from your lovely throat." He moved the ring to hold it between his for finger and his thumb; slowly he brought it to where the girl could see it. "And that note I shall cherish," he promised darkly. Turning to Della, he inclined his head and gave the order. "I've this last ring for the lady; can you guess where it shall hang?"

Della knew very well what was in the mind of the wickedly smiling King; however she knew that terror was playing a large element in this adornment. "Perhaps her nose?" Della suggested placing a talon along side Sarah's elegant nose.

"No," Jareth murmured gleefully.

"Surely not her belly," Della raked her fingers down the torso of the girl panting with fearful anticipation and heaving dry sobs.

"Close," Jareth said watching the talon make a fine line scratch and the blood that sprung to Sarah's peachy skin. "Guess again."

Devon felt a pang of pity for the girl, her eyes widened as she began to pull on the bindings of her wrists.

The Harpy looked down, as Della scraped her talons very lightly down Sarah's belly, leaving scant welts and blood, more from the nipple blood that had been left on her talon, making a web of bright red trailing to her pubis. Della cups Sarah's mons and she squirmed desperately trying to free herself from what was coming. "Now, now," Della cooed sickeningly sweetly, "His Highness wants a single piercing, not an alternative opening."

Sarah turned her eyes to Jareth; "No, please…oh God don't do this…" she begged raggedly.

Nodding to the Harpy he directed; "Slowly Della, I want this note to last."

Terror filled the pale jewel eyes of the mortal girl. The Harpy slid the side of her talon along the side of the furrow, rubbing gently the cleft of Venus to stimulate the girl's clitoris until its hood was engorged to where the Harpy could get a clear stab. As the razor-sharp pointed tip sliced into the tender membrane the mortal girl shrieked in pain and humiliation. Jareth watched with cold eyes, and then set the ring where it would remain for all time. Sarah released one last yelp of pain before she collapse unconscious, dangling on the hook.

Jareth stepped back; Devon gripped his arms to keep him upright. "Take her away," the King ordered.

"Where to?" Devon asked, "We don't dare leave her here in the dungeon, not if you wish to keep her presences quiet for now."

Jareth was losing more color, turning far more pale than usual. The poisons were coursing through his veins. "No, not here," he agreed as he looked at the girl. "The tower… take her to the tower…" He ordered Della who was already unhooking the girl's shackles from the hook.

Della nodded and cradled the naked girl in her arms; "As you wish my King."

Once the Harpy had carried the body of the swooned girl away, Devon allowed himself to show more concern. "Jareth you need a healer, now." The King nodded as his cousin shouldered the weight of the King. "I'll take you to your bed chamber."

"There may be a problem with that," Daisy held a hand up to prevent them from moving. "While I was getting the Metal Master here, I used one of the old tunnels to cut my time… We've an uninvited and unwanted guest awaiting you in the Castle… the Lord Talagon had decided to drop in on us… I over heard him saying he was insulted that you both left the High King's fete."

"We had permission to leave from the High King himself!" Devon protested loudly. "Damn that man is more trouble than he's worth."

Joachim interrupted what could have been a lengthy tirade. "Daisy, use the tunnels again and bring the healer to the King's bedchamber. My Lord with your permission I should like to offer my services in hoodwinking that lout." He moved to the other side of the paling king. "Lord Devon if you would, magic up a fine bottle of brandy…" When the vintage was within Devon's hand the Metal Smith instructed both Fae men to take a long swig and to pass the flagon his way. Joachim then took a long drought, and unceremoniously spattered the three of them with the remainder. Looking about he noticed a length of silk from a feminine article of underwear lying on one of the wooden frames. Grabbing it up he wrapped it loosely about the King's blistered throat. "Now, would you know the Goblin's Keg?" he mentioned a risqué drinking song popular in most of the pubs in the Kingdom. When they nodded he began in a deep baritone the first of the many stanza song.

By the time they reached the castle's front hall where Talagon was being kept waiting, they were on the most risqué portion of the song. Talagon frowned as the three staggered into the hall. Jareth looked at him and waved him off and the pair of conspirators hauled the king along up the stairs toward his bedchamber.

The steward looked at the unwanted guest and said quietly. "I told you he was indisposed."

Talagon pushed past the steward and exited the castle noisily.

Daisy had brought the healer, a Fae called Ghillie Dhu. He was old, older than old Oberon, and bent with age. His face was covered in a long flowing beard of white that covered his deep wrinkles. Daisy had long suspected that he and the old man in the hedge maze were related. Both had knowing eyes and similar features. But Ghillie Dhu dressed in garments made of birch and moss and other long threads harvested in the vast forest lands of the realm. His eyes opened wide when the three swaggered into the chamber. "You didn't say I was treating a too long stay at the pub," he admonished the female Goblin.

"You're not," she moved swiftly to pull back the King's bedding. "The ruse worked?" She questioned the metal smith.

"Indeed," he nodded helping to put the king on the bed for the healer to examine. "I dare say we'll have a few days peace."

Ghillie Dhu gently moved the two conspirators aside, moving closer he noticed the substance oozing on the silk that was coiled about the king's neck. "Allow me to remove this … token," he teased the King gently. When the fabric was removed he looked at the king with more serious eyes. "Why did you not come to me sooner? You are surely aware of the serious nature of this wound." Soothing hands moved over the blisters as the old healer examined the extent of the King's injuries and lesions. He looked at Daisy. "I'm going to give you a list of herbs and ointments to bring to me." After sending the female out with the list, he turned to the Lord Baron. "How did the King receive these wounds?" When the man was reluctant to answer, the healer reminded him of his oath. "I'm foresworn to the King, my loyalty is his. What is said in this chamber was never heard."

"He was captured,"

"Enemies of the crown;" questioned the healer.

Jareth groaned answering; "In a manner of speaking, yes." He was pained, pale and near exhaustion.

Devon frowned, "I would hardly call them that…" he looked over to the healer. "Three witches… mortal witches and young ones at that."

"They seemed to have enough knowledge of our physiology to do a good deal of damages…." The healer injected. "This was done by the looks of it with iron, a good deal of the poisons are concentrated in the King's blood…. He will have to be purged." He stood up and looked at both men. "I will have to ask you both for your help."

While the healer prepared the items he'd sent Daisy for, Devon filled in the missing blanks to the questions that were asked. Jareth was told to lie still, and await the first potion. Ghillie Dhu had the men bring the King into his private bath chamber where he was given the first potion that promptly had him evacuating the contents of his stomach. Moss was placed on all topical wounds to leech the remains of the iron from the King. The old healer warned that he would treat the wounds but as they had waited so long, there would most likely be heavy scaring. Once the King had been purged fully, and his wounds treated he was once more placed in bed. The old healer looked at Daisy. "He'll need bed rest for at least a week; does he have any pressing duties?"

Daisy shook her head, "As far as I know, only if a summons comes."

"Ah yes," sighed the old man. "Well we'll deal with what comes." He placed a hand on the shoulder of the guard, "I will expect you and the rest of the guards to keep the King's privacy."

"Of course," she answered, "I'll be outside if you need me Sire." She bowed then exited.

Devon looked sheepishly at his cousin, "Jareth, with your permission, I do have a guest…"

Jareth snorted, but smiled wickedly. "Go have your fun." He watched as the Lord Baron vanished into the mists. The metal smith and the healer both were dismissed and the King lay back in his bed considering his options. He'd never before been duped, and found he didn't like it, not one bit. More over, he was now thinking of the fallout he'd left behind him on the mortal planes, "Daisy," he shouted harshly getting out of the bed, his shouts were answered by the guard entering the chamber.

"Yes, Sire?"

"We have to go back," he grimaced, "I've remembered something and I need to make sure no other mortal can do what these three have." When she began to protest, he snapped. "This can not wait, now come along! I need your help. There is no time to waste." Grabbing onto her shoulder they moved through a portal he opened.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Sarah was motionless in the hands of the Harpy as it flew up toward the ivory and opal bedecked tower. She was dumped on the cold stone floor as soon as the winged creature entered the window. Della moved to the sill of the window, and took a seat. There was little chance of escape, but she wanted to see the anguish on the mortal's face when she awakened.

Slowly but surely in stages of agonizing pain the mortal girl began to stir, and raised her head off the floor. The pain in her chest could only be out measured by the throbbing pain in her nether region. Bracing herself on her arms, she took long deep breaths, trying to focus.

"Well, look who's finally awake," mocked the Harpy from her seat on the sill.

Sarah looked over at the creature with burning hate in the depths of her green eyes. "Go fuck yourself you bitch."

Della laughed harshly, "I often do, little pincushion, I often do." She leaned suggestively against the frame of the opening. "Perhaps now that I've been allowed to do the honor of piercing you, perhaps the King will allow me to have other fun with you." Sarah looked away, sickened by the thought of what she'd endured at the hands of the creature already. "Such modesty," Della mocked her again.

"Leave me in peace," Sarah moaned falling back on her arms and wincing in pain.

"Of course," she stood upon the sill, looking down with distain at the mortal. "However I've a few suggestions for you. First, don't try to climb out the window unless you plan on sprouting wings, it's a long nasty fall. Second, don't try to sweet talk any of the Harpies who will be watching over you…We are all foresworn to the King…. And lastly, mind your pees and Q's with the Goblins; I hear they are not too fond of anyone making an attempt on the King's life." She extended her wings, and glided out the window, soaring and then coming back with one last taunt. "Oh and thanks for the concert… perhaps we can do it again some time…."

Sarah heard the flapping of wings over her sobs as she crumpled again to the ground.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Jareth and Daisy appeared on the other side of the portal, night was once more falling in the mortal realm and the building that had housed the torture chamber was smoldering. Jareth sniffed the air, pointed to the little house and moved carefully with the Goblin toward the second building. "They must have been staying in this place, it has their scents."

Daisy nodded, "I'd wager they used this as sleeping quarters, Sire." She sniffed as the king had. "Upstairs." She pointed once they had entered the building. "The grounds appear to be deserted."

Jareth moved up the stairs with the goblin supporting his weight. "Not for long if I know mortals, I'm sure Sarah's family are going to want to investigate this so called accident."

"Accident?" Daisy questioned. "You caused the cavity of gas beneath the building to explode…"

"Yes, but I doubt anyone will believe the mortal left behind…" He stopped in the upper floor hallway in front of a door. "This must be Sarah's room… it's got her scent more strongly than the others." A wave of his hand and the door opened to him. He entered the room carefully, mindful that the crafty mortal girl could have set traps. He looked about the room and found books and crystals and other arcane tools. "Gather all this," he ordered. "Leave no trace of the occut behind us, what ever they used will be confiscated for our safety. This room first than the other two, we must take it all." He turned to leave, yet when he did, he was halted by the painting on the wall. Moving closer, he looked at the work of art silently for a long time.

"Sire?" The Goblin in his company looked from him to the wall. "Is there something wrong?"

Jareth's hand went to the painting and traced the intricate work of the Dragon's wing. "Wrong? No, nothing. We'll take this too…" he said removing the frame from the wall. "Spoils of war," he quietly chanted almost to himself. Looking over to Daisy he gave her a half smile, "Gather the books and other items… I want to make this the last time I see this hellish place."

"Yes, Sire." She went about gathering everything that had the least linkage to magic. Any thing that gave off a strong scent or aura was added to the growing pile. When Daisy had gathered the last thing, she turned to the king and nodded.

Jareth raised a hand, and sent the entire pile to the hidden recesses of his personal study. No one would dare enter, and he knew every last thing would be accounted for. Taking the painting in one hand, and placing the other on the shoulder of his guard he again opened a portal and as quickly and quietly as they'd come, the pair left the mortal plane.

Once back in his own chamber, he found Della sitting, staring crossly at the portal as it opened. Limping into the chamber he motioned the Harpy to keep her tongue silent. She glared at him, but voiced no complaint. He handed the painting to Daisy as he moved to his bed, and collapsed into the mattress.

Della shook her head as she moved to the bed and quietly tucked the exhausted and totally drained king in. Once she'd covered him up, she turned to Daisy who was placing the frame on the wall beside a pair of Harpy wings. "What's that?" She questioned.

"Spoils of war," Daisy said looking at the brush strokes. "What do you see?"

Della frowned, she didn't care for art, nor did she care to be asked what she saw. "Two winged creatures… natural enemies." She answered after reflecting for a moment. "What do you see?"

"Trouble," Daisy said shoving her hands into her little pockets.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17. Strangers when we meet**

Devon reappeared in the foyer of his home, disturbed and fatigued. He leaned back on the heavy oak door of the entry and let his weight rest for a moment. Closing his eyes he tried to put the situation into perspective, but no point of view was going to justify anything he'd witnessed or taken part in. He could only hope that Jareth would rest and allow his strength to be restored.

The house was quiet, and Devon supposed his guest was resting in the rooms he'd instructed the housekeeper to take her to. Sniffing he got a whiff of the brandy that still soaked his garments. Struggling he removed the outer jacket and headed up the stairs. Entering his own suite of rooms he continued to remove the liquor soaked garments. He was still struggling to remove them when his own valet entered the room. "Ah Jasper, just the chap I wanted to see. Be a good man and see to it that these things are burned, would you?" The garments now were in a pile.

"Burned, my Lord Baron?" Jasper, a scrawny little man of mixed Elven heritage, had served for several centuries as Devon's personal valet. He was meticulous and fastidious taking pride in the Lord Baron's appearance more than he'd ever worried about even his own appearance. "But my Lord, this is your favorite waistcoat," Jasper bemoaned.

"No longer," Devon sat upon is bed in but his undergarments. "After what they've born witness to this day, I never wish to see any of that again." He looked troubled as he leaned forward on his arms. "Just take them out and burn them."

Jasper began to pick every thing off the floor and began to wriggle his nose. "Good Goddess, this smells like…."

"The King's best Napoleon Brandy," offered Devon and nodded. "I'll tell you all about it, someday… but not now. Jasper, do get rid of those things, and be good enough to draw me a bath. I'd like to be more presentable before I encounter my guest." His manservant gathered the rest of the discarded items that were to be destroyed. Moments later he returned to the room and prepared the masters bath.

While Devon reclined in the deep waters of the bath, Jasper took the remainder of the Baron's garments down the back steps toward the kitchens of the tranquil home. He stumble upon Mrs. Finch, holding up the items, he looked as if he were about to cry. "He wants them burned… these lovely garments that I've taken such care of…. Burned…"

The woman looked at the odd little man with compassion. "I'm sure his Lordship has good reasons…"

Jasper began to grouse, "I'm sure it has something to do with that house guest he's brought in here…. Did you see the way she was dressed?" He was scandalized.

"I've seen worse," the woman who ran the house said boldly. "Besides, scrape off the showy leathers and the war paint and beneath them lay a very decent young woman." She looked up the stairs. "Yes, very decent."

Jasper blinked. "Decent?"

Mrs. Finch patted the little man on the arm. "You best be doing what he ordered you to… he'll be needing a fresh change of clothes, and you had best be there to help him. You know he has no idea of where anything is kept." She reminded the manservant of his duties.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

The warm scented waters of the bath did wonders to revive Devon's spirit. Once the aroma of brandy and stale smoke were washed away, he felt more able to shoulder the responsibility he was duty-bound to. He finished his bath peacefully. When he entered his bed chamber wrapped in a long bath clothe, he found Jasper laying out a new garment for him to don. With the aide of his valet he was soon looking just as handsome as ever.

He was surprised to find Mrs. Finch awaiting him in the corridor outside his chamber's door. "Is there something wrong?" he asked politely.

"Your guest is awaiting you in the sitting room, my Lord…." She seemed troubled about something.

"Yes?" He waited.

Mrs. Finch had never been one to carry tales to the master, so it was weighing heavy on her to have to do anything that could be contrived as snitching now. "I offered her a cup of tea, and she's just staring at it… as if I'd tried to poison her…" Clearly she was more hurt by the reaction than insulted.

In one of his most soothing tones, Devon smoothed over the ruffled feathers of his housekeeper. "I'm sure she meant no offense, the young lady has had a very long and trying day…"

The woman looked up at him with hopeful eyes. "I'm sure you're right, My Lord." She wiped her hands on her long apron. "Dinner will be served in half an hour in the little dinning room as you've requested, sir." She turned to go down the back stairs used by the staff.

Devon paused and remained in the hall for a moment. He wondered what it was he'd been thinking when he'd been so bold as to demand the girl as a boon. He'd had no qualms about what was to happen to the dark eyed Greek girl, none at all. Nor did he in truth find fault with the punishment dealt out to the one Jareth called Sarah. The fiery redhead had been a member of that little clique, and by all rights he should have allowed Jareth to meet out punishment to her as well. However something about her from the moment he'd set eye upon her had stood out. Heaving a heavy sigh, he moved down the main staircase of the house.

What he had expected to find he didn't remember the moment he entered the formal sitting room. Standing at the window, looking out pensively stood a young woman with a regal air about her. The long curling reddish gold hair was cascading down her back, held away from her face and pulled back in an elegant clasped hair dressing ornament. She was no longer dressed in the fancy and showy leathers; she was now wearing an elegant day gown in soft sage green muslin with just a hint of lace at her collar and cuffs of the leg-o-mutton sleeves. The empire waist suited her soft curves, and she looked like a Fae princess. She turned from the window and looked at him, quietly awaiting his conversation.

Devon moved into the room feeling something he'd never experienced before, shyness. He noticed the untouched tea sitting on the table, and decided not to broche that subject just yet. "I do hope you'll forgive my ill manners and what an appalling host I've been thus far." He said as he approached the girl. "Things being what they are, I did have my duties to see to first before I could give you a proper welcome."

The girl's face was serious, and her eyes filled with a myriad of worried thoughts. "I'm sure you…" She tried to be diplomatic but quickly realized she'd only fail if she was not true to herself. "Sarah?" she asked quietly.

Devon would have liked to have taken her hands, to comfort her and reassure her. However since he was not even aware of her given name yet, he resisted the urge. He placed one hand behind his back and steadied himself. "She's alive," he said softly.

"That's a blessing," Bryn closed her eyes to accept the fact that her friend must be in danger. "Thank you." She opened her mossy green eyes, looking up at him with resolve. "When can I see her?"

"Not now," Devon said brusquely, more abruptly then he'd cared for and he tried to cover. "She's a prisoner of the crown, Cariad…"

"Don't call me that," Bryn interrupted him harshly, fire now showing in the depths of what were usually peaceful eyes. "I don't know you, and I've not given you leave to call me your sweetheart."

Devon smiled softly, "That is true," he admitted extending a hand in formal greeting. "Allow me to introduce myself to you. I am Devon _**Tuatha Dé Danann**_, Lord Baron of the Goblin Realm and the devoted cousin of the Goblin King. And you are?"

Bryn stared at the hand offered; reluctantly she placed her hand within the other's grasp. "Bryn, Bryn Enid Cystennin," she waited a heart beat then added; "Witch." Devon, charmed beyond his wildest expectations raised her hand and bent over it placing his lips gently to the back of it. Bryn eyed him with concern. "You intend to play this game of treating me as a… guest?"

Devon straightened up, set his jaw and began the conversation he'd dreaded since he'd left the Goblin castle. "My dear," he gently led her toward a chair and gestured her to be seated. "How do you like your truth?" He asked briskly. "Do you like it sugar coated and watered down, or do you prefer it unvarnished and sticking to the facts straightforward?"

"Straight from the hip if you please." She responded without becoming emotional.

Devon took a seat beside her, "I knew you'd be practical and realistic. Levelheadedness is a virtue I much admire, but rarely find in most of the females I've been acquainted with. All right then, straight from the hip… You, Miss Cystennin, are my guest, and your friend the girl called Sarah is the prisoner of the Goblin King. She is not your concern…"

Pulling her hand free of his, Bryn gave him a disgusted look before she began to pace. "Not my concern?" she railed angrily; "How presumptuous of you! Of course it's my concern, I was part of that little triad that called down the all might Goblin King, or have you forgotten?"

Shocked at being the recipient of the girl's anger, Devon stared at her. "No, I've not forgotten… I was there… I saw what you… three witches did." He crossed his arms over his chest, "I've not quiet figured out what it was you thought you'd achieve… I know that the Greek wanted to end the life of the Goblin King, but I don't think that's exactly what you had in mind, was it?"

"I'm no murderer!" Bryn snapped harshly, forgetting for a moment she was arguing with a Fae Lord. "And I know that Sarah, while she had every right to want his life, didn't wish to end it… she just wanted back what he stole from her…"

"Harvested," corrected Devon with a gentle smile.

"What?"

"Harvested," he repeated. "He harvested her dreams."

The girl with mossy green eyes stared. "And you approve?"

"I don't approve or disapprove," he admitted complacently. "It's not my concern…it's not my war being waged."

Blinking the girl felt her mouth drop for a moment before she could stop it from happening. "Not your war? Not your concern…He took her dreams. Do you have any idea what that does to a human, Lord Baron? Its amazing Sarah can function at all close to normal...by rights, she should have gone completely mad years ago. She's had to fight every day and night since your cousin "harvested" those dreams … he didn't take just her little dreams of that moment… he took the past, present and even her future dreams… Her very ability to dream, that's what he harvested, Lord Baron_** Tuatha Dé Danann**_, yet you have the nerve to sit there so smugly and tell me you think she has no right demanding justice of your king," Bryn shook her head, reprimanding Devon. "Do you even know what justice is, Fae lordling?"

Knowing the angry woman would not appreciate his amused smile he schooled his features to remain as serious as she. "Whether you like it or not, Miss Cystennin, your friend forfeited her dreams to Jareth, and it was a fair exchange…. However by declaring war on a Fae Sovereign the young lady in question has forfeited more than just her paltry dreams… she's forfeited her very life; by declaring war on Jareth, she was no longer looking for juristic but vengeance."

"She refused Jareth making her dreams real. That didn't give him the right to steal them from her completely," Bryn argued forgetting she didn't really have the authority to use the King's given name.

Devon had known many women, perhaps too many, he mused. However few of those he's known had the ability to argue as logically as this mortal woman. He admired her fire and her conviction, and most of all her loyalty. "Of course he had the right," he lied carefully.

"Refusing to allow him to make her dreams come true is not the same thing as saying 'here take my dreams and off you go'," she exclaimed coldly.

"Details," Devon mused.

"Details?" she stormed moving closer. "Well maybe it will be just details when I kick you right in the …" She stared at the pronounced bulge in his pants. "Damn it man, think with something besides your balls!" she roared.

Amused that she was aware of his arousal, he provoked her a bit further; "Temper, temper, Cariad." Balling her hands into tight little fists, she turned and let out an agonized snarl. Devon stood up, and closed the space between them, gently placing his hands on her shoulders and soothing her with what he felt was common sense and reasonable judgment. "Cariad, what is between Jareth and Sarah is not our war…"

"You don't understand," she lamented in a weary tone.

"I understand loyalty," his lips were near her ear, "I admire it."

Bryn was too weary to fight the attraction she felt. "I can't just stand by while…"

"You've no other choice here," he cautioned. "Accept that some things are out of your hands… they are out of mine as well, Cariad." He felt the pent up emotions that were now dangerously surfacing in the girl. He was not surprised when the tremors and tears began. Slowly he turned her, his arms folding about her as she wept into his chest racked by deep sobs. "Cariad," he soothed gently. "I am not going to lie to you or sugar coat things; your Sarah is in dire straights. She pushed Jareth to the limits and that collar nearly poisoned him… she may not have wished for his death but that's damn near what she achieved." One hand moved up and down her back to calm her. "For now your Sarah is alive, accept that as a blessing and let it go at that."

Bryn looked up at him, teary eyed and feeling very tired. "And me?"

"You are my guest," he said pleasantly.

"I thought we agreed you were not going to sugar coat the truth?" she pulled her self free of the tender embrace the handsome man had enfolded her into. "You asked the King to give me to you as one of the spoils of war… and you rather made it clear that what you intended was a…intimate encounter."

Feeling caddish at hearing her speak of his actions in that hellish chamber he'd first seen her in, Devon grimaced. "Was I so un-caviler? Damned thoughtless of me," he mused. "However you're right, I did say unvarnished… Alright then, yes… I'd like to take you to my bed… however I don't think I will…not just yet." He smiled courteously and handed the girl a linen handkerchief.

Bryn dabbed the tears from her face and eyes; "Oh really?"

"Oh I will bed you Cariad," he crooned tenderly; "But not until I've had a chance to…woe you."

"Are you joking?"

"No, oddly enough I'm not." Devon mused shyly. "I won't lie to you Miss Cystennin, I'm no novice at the games of men and women…. I've had a good many encounters… very pleasant for me, and occasionally for the woman in question." He moved toward the cup of untouched tea. "However, you are the very first mortal I've ever encountered."

"I'm the first mortal you've encountered?" Her voice rose sharply, disbelieving.

He frowned, "I'll correct that, you are the first mortal of the mortal realm I've ever encountered… I mean we do have them living here… and I've met a few… but they are not quite like… you." He shrugged. "Living among the Fae and other ethereal has a way of changing humans…"

"So what you're saying is I'm a novelty?" Her voice betrayed the insult she was feeling.

"Hardly a novelty," he soothed. "But you are new territory," he acknowledge making a clean breast of the situation. "Make no mistake Bryn Cystennin… you will be in my bed, but not until you are ready."

"You're pretty sure of yourself, Baron." Bryn sniffed stubbornly.

"No, Cariad," he said darkly. "It's you I'm sure of." He backed down. "We've time, and I should like to get to know you."

"You may not like what you learn," she warned.

"I'll take my chances," he winked as he pointed to the cup of tea. "You let your tea grow cold." He observed.

"I know the cannons," she sighed.

"Which cannons?" he asked softly.

Bryn sighed again, "All of them." She looked at the cup of tea with dread. "I was not ready to… commit to that step…"

"And now, Cariad?" He asked apprehensively and troubled by how very intelligent this mortal female was. He had not expected intelligence, not really. "Are you ready to make that commitment?"

The girl with mossy green eyes dug the toe of her right shoe into the fine Oriental rug that adorned the wooden floor of this sitting room. "Lord Baron, if I thought there was even the faintest hope for escape… or release…" she looked up at him. "I know that once I eat or drink something here, I'm subject to the_** Persephone Cannon**_."

Devon nodded, "I see you're well versed… I was told most mortals refer to it as the Persephone Rule. I see you know the correct term… I'm impressed." He reached out a long tapered hand to her face, gently he stroked her cheek. "Do you understand the full extent of those cannons?" He watched as the girl nodded slowly, not enthusiastically, but solemnly and reverently. His hand moved beyond the cheek, cradling her neck tenderly. "Dinner is ready, Cariad." His eyes challenged her.

Squaring her shoulders the girl addressed him formally. "I'm ready, my Lord."

His hand released her neck, as he extended his arm to escort her into dinner. "Shall we, Cariad?" Her hand went to his arm and she moved at his side gracefully.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Della and Daisy had stood guard silently until their replacements had come into the hall outside the King's rooms. They gave the new pair the instructions given by the Healer, and after relinquishing authority, departed. Della watched the little Goblin woman as she moved swiftly down the hall, and followed her easily. Daisy seemed perturbed and troubled, and Della wondered if she'd missed some little detail that was important. She followed the Goblin out of the castle and down into the town to a pub that was favored by the armed forces that protected the castle. She watched as the Goblin moved to the bar and ordered a tankard of ale, and downing it ordered a second. Della came to stand beside her partner, watching her with a perplexed expression. Daisy ordered a third drink for herself and one for the Harpy. When they were served, she hoisted her tankard and held it for the other to clink. Della moved her tankard against the offered one, and then drank deeply.

"What's up your ass?" Della asked at long last.

Daisy would have answered except her eyes caught the sight of another Goblin seated in a dark corner nursing his own tankard of ale. She moved to the table in the dark and roughly let her tankard hit the surface of the table. The man looked up at her, waiting. "Did you bother to inform him?" she asked knowing the man would understand her question even if her companion at her side didn't.

Joachim frowned. "No," was his curt answer.

"So he does not know," Daisy gripped the back of the seat she was standing behind.

"Know what?" Della asked softly. "Who does not know what?"

The metal smith shook his head, "I saw no reason to inform the King, as the leather master didn't, and the scribe had not…why should I?"

Della blinked in the dark, drank deeply from the tankard in her hands and growled. "Tell the King what?"

"Men are idiots!" Daisy pronounced harshly. "You three are fools as well." She pulled out the seat and sat down heavily, then pointed to the other free chair. "Sit, my winged friend." She commanded in a persuasive tone.

Della understood that something here was not to be spoken of openly. "Is there something I should know?"

"Tell her," Daisy commanded the man as she drank deeply from her tankard.

"History repeats itself," Joachim murmured. "The King's…personal jewelry… is an exact replica of that which was owned by Zoltarie." His voice was kept low and subdued.

Della shrugged.

Daisy looked at her with a blank expression on her wise little face. "_**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_."

Again Della blinked in the dark, then shook her head, "No, that's not…possible…" The Harpy reasoned. "That was a Goblin… and besides it was an eon ago."

"Do the Harpies keep no records of their history?" Daisy asked quizzically.

"There are glyphs…." Della thought of the walls of the nesting caverns. "But few read them now… before the King made the accord with the new Matron, we were too busy dying."

"I suggest you go read your history." Daisy said soberly. "Perhaps warn your new Matron of your part in the repeating of history." She turned her concentration on her tankard. Della rose from her seat, leaving her drink on the table behind her.

Joachim looked at the entry and saw the dark cloaked man who entered and moved to their table. He motioned him to join them. "Leather Master," he addressed the man as he gestured for the owner of the pub to bring yet another tankard over. "Have you started work on…" he didn't finish leaving his words hang in space.

"I began work on it the moment the King took up the mantel of the last true Goblin King." He sighed enigmatically as he lifted his tankard to his lips. "It was only a matter of time before it would be needed."

Daisy shook her head, as she regarded the men seated with her; "And neither of you thought to mention any of it to the King?"

Looking at her with a wistful smile Joachim sighed. "Daisy, not even the old tutor spoke of this to him… and he most of all should have… Talos here did direct him to read the scrolls of Zoltarie, can we help it if he didn't read all of them?"

"Someone should have warned him…" she muttered into her tankard. "The moment he became bewitched by that moral girl, someone should have warned him."

Talos glared at the female, "I wouldn't have taken the chance that he would ignore a summons!" His tankard made a loud thud as it came down on the wooden surface of the table. "Would you?" he accused.

Daisy looked about the pub; the changes brought about had been good for the Kingdom. She could not argue with the success the King had had. "I suppose I would not." Once more she lifted the tankard, this time holding it out to her companions. "To_** Jareth Tuatha Dé Danann Huukec Mec, Warrior King**_," she toasted, and held her tankards as the two others were brought to it.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Devon had asked the housekeeper to set the table for an intimate dinner, not a formal one. So instead of him sitting across from the young lady, he was seated at her side. He held her chair, and waited for her to be seated before he took his own seat. "I'm sure you'll find everything to your liking," he said confidently. "My cook is one of the finest in the Kingdom," he smiled gently. "She's not a Goblin." He promised.

"I'm not xenophobic," Bryn stated stanchly, valiantly working at keeping her resolve.

"I had not meant to suggest you were," he commented softly. "It's just that Goblin cuisine is not to every ones liking."

Bryn looked down at the table, feeling a moment's embarrassment. "Nice table," she said softly. "The china is very pretty."

Devon looked down at the table as well, "I agree." He picked up one of the crystal goblets and commented. "I had no idea we had anything quite so fine…I have had few occasions to dine here."

"This is your home isn't it?" she asked suddenly aghast at his comment.

"Well, yes, it is in fact my home… I mean I own it… However until a short time ago I rarely spent even an evening here;" He poured wine from the carafe it was decanter in and took a taste, finding it most palatable, he poured a goblet for the girl. "Until recently I spent most of my time divided between the High Court and the Goblin Palace." Staring at the goblet with its rich ruby claret colored wine as if it were about to come to life and bite her, Bryn didn't appear to be listening to the Baron any longer. Devon placed an arm over her seat and whispered. "You're going to have to drink it some time, Cariad. I'm not going to force you to lift it, you'll have to take that step yourself."

Bryn turned to look at him; her mouth formed a tiny grimace before she looked back at the goblet. "Hail Creaser," she muttered as she reached out, lifted the goblet to her lips, drinking deeply. It went down smoothly, but she'd still closed her eyes. When she opened them, she placed the goblet down and looked at the man seated beside her. "I don't feel any differently."

"You sound disappointed," he mused lifting his own wine to his lips. "Just what did you expect?"

"I don't know…" she admitted feeling a bit foolish. "I guess I expected to be… changed."

"You've read too many Fairytales," he winked. "Real changes are much more subtle."

Not convinced, she took a second sip, still no sensation of change. "I am changed though, am I not?"

"Indeed," he took the goblet from her. "You are changed." His expression was one of admiration as well as one of flirtatiousness. "And now you are bound to this fairy realm."

"Do you flirt with all your prisoners, Baron?" she felt a bit emboldened and gave voice to something that had bothered her.

Devon shook his head, "Caraid, cad though I may be, you are the only living being I've ever requested from this or any other King." His eyes were dancing with merriment.

"Oh," she was taken aback, but had to hold her questions as dinner was brought into the room. The man had not lied, the dinner was delightful. Bryn had always had a taste for traditional Welsh dishes, having sampled a good many while visiting her Father's mother when she was a child. The meal started with a savory leek soup that was perfection, and followed by roast mutton and brazed potatoes served with seared green beans in a garlic sauce. They finished the meal with a tempting elderflower cream cheese tart. When the last morsel had been devoured the girl murmured with a full mouth; "Oh that was good…" she licked the last of the dessert from her lips. "I haven't had elderflower tarts since my Granny passed on."

Devon teased her gently, "I thought perhaps they had been staving you on the other side." He used his own napkin to dab at her lips.

Blushing slightly Bryn murmured, "I don't get Welsh cuisine often and when I do, I tend to really enjoy it." Leaning back Bryn murmured contentedly. "Granny had three wonderful elderberry trees in her little yard…One had berries that were huge and that one she used for making pies and jam… one had sweet fragrant flowers and that one was used for tarts, and the other had a tangy flower for tea…"

"Sounds wonderful," Devon looked longingly at her mouth wondering how long it would be before the girl would allow him to kiss her. "Tell me more."

Mrs. Finch and the cook stood in the archway watching the couple at the table. The housekeeper nodded knowingly. "I told you," she muttered to the cook. "She's perfect for him."

"Let's hope he sees it as well," muttered the cook back.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

The Harpy Matron was listening to a sound that had not been heard in the caverns in years, babies crying. The Goblin had been true to his word, and they were once more breeding and feeding as Harpies should. They were hunting meat and mates, and life was good. She looked at her talons, knowing it was her mother's blood on them that had sealed the bargain with the Fae who was now Goblin. He had honored his bargain just as the Harpies had honored their oaths. The three who served at the castle would report in to the rookery as often as they could. It was important for them, building their sense of the flock. Iris could feel the shift in the wind, and knew there was an unscheduled visit. She looked to the opening and stood awaiting the arrival.

Della entered the familiar entry, extended her wings to their full span and greeted the Harpy Matron. "Hail Iris, hail keeper of the nest, hail oh mother of us all." She went to her knees rising only when the elder gave her leave to.

"Welcome Della," Iris extended her wings, and then lowered them swiftly as a sign of recognition. "I've been expecting you." She said thoughtfully. "What news is there from the castle?"

"The King has taken a hostage to the peace," Della said curtly.

"He's taken a _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_." Corrected the Matron knowingly, sadly smiling at the King's personal guard. "So, is this one human?"

"This one?" Wing feathers twitched as the King's guard followed the Matron deeper into the cavern. "What do you mean this one?"

Iris stopped before the glyphs that depicted the history of her race and their taking refuge in the lands of the Goblin. "Long ago, when the fabric between our world and that of the Humani was narrow the two worlds trafficked with one another far more often than we do today. The Kings of the Underground and the Kings of the Above were in open communion with one another." She read the glyphs easily. "The Goblin realm was ruled by Goblins then, the ones from whom the present race are descended. They were ferocious warriors with violent tempers and made turbulent powerfully aggressive lovers… ah those were the days…" Iris remembered tales handed down, she'd have lost herself in the memory had Della not cleared her throat. "I digress." She looked at the next panel; "In the time of the great Goblin Zoltarie a famine came, decimating many of the underground nations. Goblins went above, salvaging and raiding, keeping the rest of us alive. Zoltarie himself would lead many of these raids. They would come back with food and livestock and human children who'd been left unguarded. On one such raid the Goblin King returned with a young female, just entering womanhood… she was fire to his ice, and fought him tooth to nail…He valued her above all other possessions and guarded her jealously…. He built the tower of ivory and opal in which to keep her, a place with no stair, nor easy entry. The Harpy became the guards and only winged creatures were allowed contact with her."

Della looked at the glyphs, "I should have remembered this," she grumbled to herself. "I should have remembered."

Iris continued looking at the same panel Della was now staring at. "So jealous was he, that he marked her as his…. He had the Harpy guard pierce her and he adorned her body with silver adornments." She turned to Della. "Is this one human as well?"

"Yes," Della nodded sharply. "A human witch…"

"That one was a user of magic as well…" Iris said soberly. "I take it the King had you do the piercing for him."

"Yes," Della rolled her eyes, "I am also the one who delivered her to the tower."

"Understand this, daughter." Iris took Della's chin between her fingers and forced the creature to face her. "She is_** Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_, and she will be his obsession. She is the price of peace with the above, whether she knows it or not."

"She is nothing but a vindictive hellion" Della snarled. "She tired to kill the King…"

"As did she who bore the title first," Iris released the face of the younger Harpy woman. "History repeats itself, and again a Goblin has taken a mortal…"

"He's not a Goblin," protested Della scoffing. "He's a Fae…"

"No longer," Iris moved past her walking toward the sounds of the young in the Harpy nursery. "He relinquished his claim the moment he allowed me to end the suffering of the last Matron. The Kingdom has not been this alive in generations! He holds off they who would slice this land into little parcels and destroy it…. He sees… and acts and thinks like a Goblin…. A true Goblin, not the puny little mites that inhabit the castle and do his bidding but the Once Great Goblin Race and though him perhaps it will rise again… no matter, the circumstances of his birth… Jareth _**Tuatha Dé Danann**_ is the Goblin King."

Della looked at the nursery; new life had entered the caverns, due to Jareth. "What happened to the _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_?" She asked carefully.

"She was murdered." Iris whispered. "And Zoltarie was inconsolable, he vanished into the bog… no Goblin was ever as strong as he, and the High King proclaimed this land one of his provinces…. See to it my daughter that history does not repeat that event as well."

Della looked at the young harpies and knowing some day her own would be housed in this nursery she gave her oath to the Matron. "I will protect the King and his bonded slave."

"As will I," Iris extended her talon, gripping the extended talon of her kinswoman.  
**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Jareth opened his eyes something flashing had woken him from the herb induced sleep. His eyes slowly focused, and he reached out a hand to pull the orb off its stand and into his bed. Curling it under his chest he went back to sleep.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Devon listened to Bryn describe her early childhood and the visits to her beloved Gran's. He envied her the closeness of her family, and the loving grandparent who had taught her so much of her Welsh heritage. "It must have been hard for the family when she passed away and the house had to be sold."

"My Father never forgave his elder brother…selling the house out from under the rest of the family…Had my Father or his sister known," Bryn shrugged. "Spilt milk."

Rising from the table, Devon held her chair for her to rise as well. "I'm sorry to be the cause of more sorrow for your family, Cariad." He said softly. "I'd spare them that if I could."

"Thank you, Baron." She took his arm as it was offered.

"Allow me to see you to your room," he said softly. "You look tired, and you've had a very long day." He led her toward the steps. "Mrs. Finch will see to getting you settled in, I'm sure she's already arranging a lady's maid for you."

"A maid," Bryn snickered. "Silly, I have no need of a maid, nor would I know what to do with one."

"Humor me," he snickered back; "I should very much like to spoil you a bit." He paused only when they reached the door of her suite of rooms. "I'll be saying goodnight to you then, Cariad." He now held both her hands. "I may not be here when you rise, it depends on if the King has need of me… So please, if you have any needs ask Mrs. Finch."

"I will," she promised.

Devon took her hands in his and drew them to his heart. "One thing, Cariad, and this is important. You must not leave the estate. You are free to wander my garden, or orchard. But do not ever go beyond the wall, not without me. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Baron," the girl went sober again. "Thank you for a lovely dinner, sir."

"Good night, Cariad." Bryn turned, opened her door and moved into her rooms. Devon watched her door close and cursed himself for having giving the warning. No matter how much it was necessary, he'd wished it could have waited. Slowly he moved down the hall to his own room thinking of the nights he would spend with the pretty creature that was so near, and yet so far.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Something pained the girl lying on the cold stone floor, something was moving her. She looked up to see dark eyes looking back at her. She recognized the talons even in the dark, the Harpy had returned. "Come back to give me another warning?"

"No," Della hulled her off the floor none too gently. "I came back to see if you had the sense to get off the cold floor. I see you don't."

Every movement pained the girl, and she winced as she was dragged to the bed. "The floor was cold and it helped the pain," Sarah made excuses.

"Yeah, well, it's not a fitting place to sleep." Della moved the girl to the bed, and watched as the injured human curled into a ball. "Do you need a healer?" She asked reluctantly.

"I don't know…" the curt answer came.

Della pulled the blanket up over the girl. "Go to sleep, I'll be here keeping watch if you need me." She moved to a chair that looked very much like the one the King had used in the dungeon. "Go to sleep..."

Sarah closed her eyes once more, in pain and exhausted, she fell into dreamless sleep.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

The ballroom had known better days, it was tattered and torn and had a gaping hole in one wall. The floor that had been adorned with cushions in bright orange and yellow now lay empty. Dust and dirt covered the once smooth surface of the dance floor. The mirrors that were ornately placed on every wall were dirty, and the silver was tarnishing and loosing its glimmer.

Jareth walked through this room, down stairs that he'd used to pay that wicked game of hide and seek with the beautiful woman-child. Even empty the room was still commanded by her. Her scent clung in the air, like exotic perfume. She was gone, long gone, and yet here she remained. He would have liked to have sat down, he was so tired. But here was no peace, and no resting place. He moved from level to level in this unique room. Pausing to look in one mirror, perhaps the same one she'd seen his reflection in that night so long ago.

Behind him stood a feminine figure with a horned mask covering her face watching him as he'd once watched the girl. She was dressed much as he had been with the exception that she was in a gown of midnight blue, not a frock coat. He turned expecting the specter to have disappeared like all illusions were in the habit of doing. The phantom of his dream lowered the mask and Sarah's face looked back at him. Not the innocent child she'd been but the woman she'd grown into. Her expression was as haughty as his had been.

He moved forward, looking down at her with a matching haughtiness. She tossed the horned mask to the ground and dared him to make a move. Violently he pulled her into his grasping arms hands tearing at her gown, shredding it as she began to struggle feebly. His white silk shirt was rendered a rag in moments as they fought violently. Roaring like a great beast of the forest, he fastened his mouth down on hers, drawing blood as his teeth scraped her lips.

The woman bit back, snarling as he tripped her, and crouched over her. Her wrists were captured in his as he lowered himself to take control of her. She moaned as he pinned her to the platform. He moaned as he took her mouth once more, and she cried into his open mouth.

Jareth sat up, fevered, and covered in sweat, in his hand the orb was changing color and giving off heat. The Goblin King looked at the image, the same he'd been dreaming only moments before and shuddered. Shakily he placed the orb back on the stand and fell back against the pillows on his bed. He promised himself that he'd see Lutin when he was able to walk without falling on his face. Until then he was going to make sure that orb remained silent. Flicking his wrist, he expected it to go dark, when it did not he stared at it and whispered, "Sarah."


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18. Rest in peace**

Robert had not been able to look at Karen on the drive up to the university. He blamed himself for everything. If he'd been a better husband the first time around, Linda would not have left him for Jeremy…. If he'd been a better father, Sarah would never have resented Karen or Toby, and would never have been traumatized into…. If only, if only if only…

Karen was lost in her own thoughts and recriminations. If she'd been more understanding, she thought to herself, if she'd tried harder to understand the fantasy world that Sarah had once loved with such passion…tears fell freely, and she made no endeavor to brush them away or halt them. If only, if only, if only…

Toby sat in the back seat of the family car, he was still stunned. They had told him his sister would never be coming home. They had told him she was gone, but if that were true, why was it he could still feel her… feel her ever so close? The confused little boy sat wondering what was wrong with all the grown ups.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Linda and Jeremy arrived ahead of everyone. They sat quietly looking at the building that housed Sarah's dorm room. They had agreed not to go in until Robert and Karen arrived. They were united in this sadness, and were drawing on each other's strengths. This was not a time to be fighting; this was a time to help each other. Not that there had ever been any real arguments between the parents, not even when the marriage had turned to sawdust. Linda had known the best and most stable place for Sarah had been with Robert. However, right now, even that was a painful thought. Linda wondered if things would have been different over the last few years for Sarah if she'd not left, if she'd toughed it out and stayed with Robert and given up her dreams…. If only, if only, if only…

Students saw the famous actress and her famous actor paramour sitting outside the dorms. Not one stopped to ask for an autograph, wishing to give the grieving mother some room to breathe. The outside of the one door building was draped in black crape, and everyone passing it looked at it with somber eyes. Jeremy with his arm around Linda had been silent for a long time, unable to find words to voice the sadness he was feeling. Even though he was not technically a step parent to the girl, he was as fond of her as if he had been. He'd watched her grow though the awkward phase into a charming and disarming young beauty. So like the woman who had captured his heart. He looked at Linda's profile and felt his heart lurch once more.

Linda was aware of his gaze, felt his sympathy, and truly appreciated it. Turning to him she leaned her head on his shoulder and sighed. "I don't know what I'd do if it were not for you," she murmured gratefully. "I'd never be able to face this…"

"I'll always be there for you, darling. You know that." He assured her.

Linda did know she also knew she'd never allow this relationship to go much farther than it had. She had never meant to cause the pain and sorrow that ending her marriage to Robert had caused. "I know," she accepted the assurance in spite of the fact it would go unused.

"She was a wonderful little girl," Jeremy said in a shuddering voice, unable to keep his own sadness hidden any longer. "You were a wonderful mom to her; she was a credit to both you and Robert." He fought back bitter tears, "I'm going to miss her…"

Until that moment, Linda had not realized that Jeremy had even really noticed what she'd done for the girl. Nor had she really taken stock of the fact that her sudden departure from this world would touch this man nearly as deeply as it had touched her. This was a side to Jeremy she had not seen, or really looked for. This was something beyond the flash and flare. This was depth, feeling, and Linda was not prepared for it.

Stiffeling back the sadness, Jeremy pointed to the sedan coming up the road. "That's Robert now," He rose, helping Linda to her feet.

Robert pulled into the space in front of the dorm building, cut off the engine and emerged from the car. Coming around to the front, he opened the door and allowed Karen to step out. She in turn opened the back door for Toby who bounded out like a caged animal glad to be free. The adults moved toward each other and then to Toby's amazed eyes, they embraced. Jeremy and Robert, Karen and Linda, stood holding onto each other for comfort and strength.

"I'm so sorry," Karen sobbed.

"Me too," Linda moaned.

Toby could not understand what all this fuss was over. Why were the grownups crying? And why did they keep saying Sarah would not come home any more? He wanted to shout at them all, but knew he shouldn't.

Linda looked down at the boy, releasing his mother, the actress stooped down. "Got a hug for your Auntie Linda?" she asked softly.

Toby could see the woman needed a hug, and gave it to her willingly, but wondered when she'd become Auntie Linda instead of just Sarah's mama.

Jeremy sniffed back his tears watching his lady hug the boy. "He's growing into fine young man." He complemented Robert.

Robert shoved his hands in his pockets, wishing he had a briefcase or papers to fumble with. "He's a good boy." He looked at the actor, and saw him as a man, not a rival, just a man. "Thank you for being here." He said feeling real gratitude for the support.

The Actor clasped his hands behind his back, feeling a bit helpless and at odds ends. "I wish there were more I could do," he said firmly.

One of the University's administrators finally arrived; the odd little man had a gnomish appearance and squinted as he looked at them. "The Cystennin family should be arriving any moment." He said briskly as he looked at his watch. "Have you any idea of how long it will take for you to pack up?"

Linda blinked, feeling her "Irish" rise. "It will take as long as it takes," she growled.

Both Jeremy and Robert had to look away before they'd burst out laughing. Sad or not, no one rushed Linda, and she was letting the little official feel her anger. Even Karen had to hide the smile that had suddenly appeared.

The gnomish man muttered something under his breath about how it would have been easier to just have the remaining roommate pack up and ship the belongs of the dead girls to the two families. He looked at his pocket watch again and tapped his toe impatiently. Clearly, not liking to be kept waiting, he acted as if he had somewhere more important to be. He began to pace the side walk up and down nervously while awaiting the other family. He looked at his watch once more, "You would think people would be on time for appointments," he muttered aloud.

The four adults stared at him, mouths agape.

"I don't have all day," he snapped peevishly. "Should have gotten a janitor to do this," he groused.

"You are aware that our daughter has just passed away, aren't you?" Robert asked voicing the hostility the little man was inciting.

He looked at the man addressing him as if Robert were some inconsequential trifling knave or student. "Well, we would not be here, having to clean up after them if they had been on campus instead of gallivanting all over the countryside," snapped the little gnome. "Stupid girls chasing around with those hooligans…." He muttered darkly.

Robert who hated feeling as if he'd been kept in the dark, exploded. "What the hell are you talking about?"

The diminutive man glared at the one who had just shouted at him. "I'm sure when Dr. Wheeler called you, he informed you of the circumstances."

"Actually, no," Robert moved forward, using his best courtroom serious business face. "So perhaps you should explain the _**circumstances**_ to me…"

The gnomish man backed up. "That is not within my authority!" He looked panicked as he moved back from the group. "I was only to allow you access to the dorm, not give explanations…" he began to fret and wring his hands. "Why do they always do this to me?" he bemoaned. "I should have known things would not be simple…. The office was to give you the information… not rely on me to do it…"

Robert wondered if the little man were about to bolt. "See here, whoever you are…"

"Whoever?" he repeated suddenly incensed that they had no idea of whom he was or his importance. "I am Professor Hinrich Gerhardt, that's who I am!"

Linda moved forward swiftly, "Professor," she turned on the charm. "Would you do us the eminence favor of asking for some one from the administration to come and see us?"

The distraction had worked, as Linda knew it would and the little man was placated for a moment. "I will see if someone is available," he said before pointing to the side walk. "Do not move from here." He warned as he moved to the dorm building alone.

"What was that all about?" Karen asked shaking her head. She looked at Linda, "At least you got him to quiet down."

Linda shrugged. "It's a gift." She then looked at Robert, "I think you'd better use your Perry Mason impression," she suggested softly. "He's like Judge Ralston."

"Who's Judge Ralston?" Karen asked as Linda took a seat on the bench beside her.

"The first judge that Robert tried a case before," Linda said with a bit of a grin. "He was just like the little professor… lots of self important bluster." She pointed to Robert who was wincing at the memory of the elderly judge. "He almost got himself put in jail for contempt of court… and had we not been watching a old rerun of Perry Mason that evening, he'd have spent a good deal of time cooling his heals in a jail cell."

Karen snickered, and could not look at her husband. "Oh I can see it now."

Linda giggled. "Ralston was a ball buster," she whispered something into Karen's ear and the pair sputtered with giggles. Jeremy cleared his throat to alert them that the gnome was returning.

Professor Gerhardt, stony faced moved toward them as if he was afraid they had something that might be catching. "Doctor Carlson, the University President will be here directly to …deal with you…" He sniffed and gave them all a very superior glare, "I have been relieved of my duty here, and I bid you all good day." Turning on his heel, he strode away.

"Old Ralston," Robert agreed as he looked down at his wife and ex wife seated on the bench.

"Robert, just what did they say when they called?" Linda asked thinking about the little man's harsh words. "Where was Sarah?"

"It was a very sketchy call," Robert sighed. "Some official from the school called to say there'd been an accident… then the state police called… and then some fellow with a Greek name called… But no one said much of where, when or how… I figured we'd get the information here." He noticed a car pulling slowly up the road. "I'll bet that's the Cystennin family arriving."

The car was a small older model Chevy, being driven by a man who like Robert looked something of being at a loss for understanding. The woman in the front seat had reddish gold hair that was pulled up on her head in a classic French Knot. They were not dressed in the latest fashions, nor were they dressed shabbily. They looked like an average couple of middle aged parents, and if not for the somber expressions on their faces anyone would have thought they were here to visit their child.

Robert moved forward, extending his hand. "I'm Robert Williams," he introduced himself. "Sarah's father…This is my wife Karen, and our son Toby… my daughter's mother, Linda and her beau Jeremy. You must be the Cystennin family."

"Yes, I'm Errol Cystennin, this is my wife, Joanna," the man accepted the hand offered. "Has anyone explained what happened?"

"We're waiting for the University's President to address that question." Robert said courteously. "However they are insisting that we wait here, before going up to the dorm room." He noticed a man coming up the walk way in a hurried fashion. He certainly didn't look like the president of a university, nor did he look like a professor. He looked like an over worked clerk.

When the man stopped his rushed steps, he took a deep breath. "I'm Paul Tibits, Doctor Carlson's assistant; I do apologize for the mix-ups here. You were not supposed to be directed to come to the dorms… I'm afraid they are under police seal for right now." He seemed very embarrassed and willing to do what he could to make amends. "I understand that you've not been given any clear information on the…accident…" He looked more than embarrassed now, he looked mortified. "I'm afraid what we have is not going to do much in clearing things up either."

Mrs. Cystennin frowned, "Police seal, I don't understand, whatever for?" She looked from one confused face to another. "Why is there no officer here giving us a report?"

Robert wondered how things got done with these people being so inept. "Just what can you tell us?"

Tibits looked like a deer in the headlights. "It's just a formality," he assured the parents. "As you know the girls were not on campus when they…" He stopped, looked at the parents and read their expressions. "Good lord, you don't know…do you?"

Reaching forward Robert took hold of the man's lapel, drawing him closer. "We know nothing…go from there…Just where were our daughters and what happened?"

"They were…visiting friends off campus, as I understand it." The little man seemed more nervous then ever. "Making some kind of amateur music video…" He swallowed hard, "They were friends with this group that had rented out an old abandoned Mental institution. One of the buildings had a large room where they were staging a dance sequence and the three girls were doing some kind of set up… This use to be mining country some time ago… most of the mines are abandoned and long since petered out…. The grounds of their friends compound was above a pocket of an old mine… As we understand it there was a build up of coal gases and they erupted. That's what caused the explosion…"

"Three girls?" Robert asked. "You said three girls were in that building…"

Tibits nodded sadly. "Yes, I'm afraid one girl was thrown by the force of the blast. She survived, but she's…. badly injured, and completely traumatized." He continued on. "We are just now waiting for the go ahead from the police to take down the yellow tape…. Once they've given us the all clear, you will be allowed entry into the dorm room. Doctor Carlson asked me to invite you to come down to the administration building until then for refreshment, and he will himself come to speak to you once he is free."

An hour later, and two cups for week coffee, they were still waiting. Robert was beginning to look as if he were going to burst. At last the door opened and a haggard man entered the room. He moved toward Robert, seeing him as the natural person in charge of the assembled adults in the room. "I am so sorry for having kept you waiting, unavoidable I'm afraid." He offered his hand. "I do wish to extend my condolences to both your families, I am sorry for your loss."

"Is there anything you can tell us?" Robert asked giving the ma a firm handshake.

"Other than what my assistant told you, no," he answered. "The state police have been investigating and the mining authority has as well. I'm afraid we are as much in the dark on this as you are." The man, a well groomed but tired looking academic motioned everyone to take a seat. He took one and spoke respectfully. "I'm so sorry about all this confusion."

"The girl who survived;" Robert didn't seem able to release his qualms and thoughts. "Where is she now?"

"Convalescing as I understand it," Carlson explained. "I'm told the three girls were unusually close, that they had attended St. Ambrose together."

Mr. Cystennin nodded, "That's right; they graduated together and also took some early credit courses here last year." He held his wife's hand gently. "Our Bryn and Lilith and Sarah were inseparable. You say Lilith survived the blast… are her parents coming up?"

Doctor Carlson shook his head, "Miss Timofia's mother is out of the country right now…she's actually being cared for by friends… the same friends who were renting the grounds…" He didn't seem comfortable speaking of Lilith.

"Is there something she could tell us?" Robert asked. "She was there, is there anymore she can give us?"

The man heaved a heavy sigh, "I really don't feel she could… you see she seems to have been so traumatized by the entire episode that she's… well we fear she's not quite right in her head." He leaned forward, uncomfortable discussing the third girl with these parents. "She's under heavy sedation right now, and will have to under go a great deal of therapy to learn to deal with the horror of what she witnessed." Carlson frowned. "They had to pull her out of the building, literally dug her out of rubble before the entire structure collapsed."

"That poor girl," Joanna murmured softly.

Doctor Carlson stood up, "I am sorry that there's so little information to be given, but please, stay here, I'll have some lunch brought in for you… I do expect to hear from the State authorities this afternoon, and then I should be able to give you some better information… Oh and we've set the guest house in Professor's Row aside for your use. Once we've heard from the authorities my assistant will guide you over and get you settled. Again, I'm very sorry for your loss."

Once the man had exited, Linda moved to where Robert was standing. "How do you read him?" she asked swiftly, quietly, as if they were being observed.

"He's not telling us everything he knows," Robert said just as quietly before walking over to Errol, "I think we're being handed a white wash."

Errol frowned, "I don't understand why," he looked about the room as if looking for a microphone or a camera. "Our girls were not into anything… illegal were they?"

"Not to my knowledge," Karen said defensively. "Sarah really hated taking any kind of medication… I can't see her doing recreational drugs," she turned to Linda. "Can you?"

"No," the actress pursed her lips. "But Robert is right; something is really out of whack here." She tapped her chin with one long finger nail. "Did you notice how he made real sure we would not want to talk to Lilith?" She inclined her head, "I'm not saying the girl is not traumatized, but I think she's our key to what happened."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Carlson dialed a number and waited, "I'm glad I reached you," he said swiftly. "The parents are here…yes, they are asking questions…NO... No I didn't make any suggestions. I think you should know, they are asking about Lilith." He listened and winced once or twice. "Yes, Mr. Karass…. I understand your son wants this kept quiet… but I really don't see how…" He rubbed his eyes as he listened again. "Sir, this is not like the other stunts… two girls are dead…"

The man took a seat behind his desk, "I understand," he muttered darkly. "No, I'm not blaming your son… I doubt anyone could or would." His voice rose. "I know they are saying it was a build up of coal and methane gases….." He listened again. "Do you think that's wise? Yes, I suppose your right…if Ari comes and speaks to them… yes… yes… I'll make the arrangements my self, sir." He hung the phone up and pressed the button for his secretary. When the woman entered he gave instructions. "An officer of the mining commission is on his way over, when he arrives would you have the two families in the reception room come in here?"

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Costas Karass stood in his office looking out the window, awaiting his son's arrival. Ari had been sent for; now all the elder Karass could do was wait. He was use to being kept waiting for his son, but it never seemed to get any easier for the elder. Ari was the child of his old age, a son after six daughters. Karass knew he'd spoiled the boy, often railing at others in the family and defending the lad. He had taken pride in the young man's independent spirit and lust for life. He'd boasted that his son was a man's man, and now… now he was praying to all the old Gods that he could deal with what they had placed on his plate.

Ari entered the room, no longer dressed in leathers and biker gear. He was now dressed in expensive slacks and a turtle neck sweater. "Papa," he said softly to gain his father's attention. "You sent for me?"

Costas didn't look, he merely nodded. "The girl," he inquired thoughtfully.

"She's resting," Ari joined him at the large window overlooking the large factory and its vast layout of buildings on the track of land owned and operated by the family. "Doctor Miller has turned her case over to Doctor Danvers, yet again."

"The police report and the mining authority report agree that you had nothing to do with the explosion." Costas said relieved.

Not content for an unspoken lie to be between them, Ari shook his head. "That's not entirely true and you and I both know it."

Looking at the younger man, the elder took his time in putting his next thoughts into words. "What were you thinking? Did you not know what they were doing?"

Ari shrugged, "I didn't really care," his voice was honest. "All I wanted was Lilith, Papa."

The elder's face showed concern. "Do you want her still?" When the younger man nodded, Costas sighed. "I've made arrangements with her mother… you and the girl will be married…that will protect both you and she…now…there is something you must do. The families of the two girls who are gone," he refused to say dead if he didn't have to. "They are at the University awaiting some word on what happened… I want you to face them, give them what you can." He placed his hand on his son's shoulder. "Do this and close this chapter of this book."

"Yes Papa," Ari said dutifully.

Costas embraced his son, "Lilith will be protected, even from herself." The elder promised as he held tightly his son.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Robert read over the accident report and the miners report as well. "There was no warning?"

The man from the Miner's Commission shrugged. "I'm afraid there seldom is, sir."

"I thought the mine emissions were monitored;" Errol looked at the report over Robert's shoulder; having been involved in the mines as a younger man he had more understanding of the report than Robert had. He read over the same section of the report again.

"Most of the mines are monitored," the official stiffened. "That one was not even on the list of old mines. Some of them did and do fall between the cracks."

Errol shot the man a acerbic gaze; "Am I to understand my daughter is dead because a few mines have fall between the cracks? Well that sir is unacceptable!"

Robert placed a hand on the hand beside his on the table. "Easy Errol." He warned before looking at the man from the mine commission. "My friend here is right, it is unacceptable." Shoving the report back at the official Robert stood up. "How many other mines have fallen between the cracks?"

Doctor Carlson could almost feel sorry for the man from the Miner's Commission. The parents had been much easier on the officers from the state. This one they were putting through the wringer.

"We are doing our best tracking them down," the man said defensively. "However you must understand, not all the mines that operated here about were even legal, some were never registered with the commission." Swiftly he changed his tact, "I am very sorry for your loss. I know that no matter what we do, it will not make up for the loss of your daughters."

Doctor Carlson waited until the man had packed up his reports, promising copies for the parents and departed. He then said quietly, "I've made arrangements with the board for a quiet memorial to be held tomorrow here for your daughters, I hope that's satisfactory and acceptable." His secretary popped her head in and Carlson motioned her to give entry to the man standing behind her.

Ari Karass entered the room looking very somber, "Doctor Carlson, I hope you'll forgive this intrusion."He looked at the parents, and bowed curtly. "I'm Aristotle Karass, my friends' call me Bear… Lilith Timofia is my girlfriend… I'm the one who rented the old asylum…" He introduced himself. "I'm so very sorry…Sarah and Bryn…were friends of mine as well."

Linda backed up; Jeremy knew that something had spooked her. He placed his hand to her waist and braced her. She suddenly griped him and held on for dear life. Jeremy stood steadfastly, giving her what strength he could.

Robert noticed his ex's reaction and went on guard. "Mr. Karass can you tell us what the girls were doing off campus in the middle of a school week?" the tone was accusatory, and Robert didn't care.

Ari nodded, "I think I can… it was Halloween, and the girls wanted to come out for a bonfire and to cut up a bit…. No liquor, just music and dancing… and the fire…. I have a band, The Outlaws, and we cut a record deal… the girls were going to help with a music video… they thought it was the perfect time to work on the staging and costuming….As I understand it, Sarah is the one who supplied the leather outfits…" Linda groaned and he continued. "The three of them were in the studio doing some warm ups and the rest of us were to join them…The bonfire was dying down and Snake, that's Steven's nick name… Steven was the guy that Bryn was sort of seeing…anyway…HE and I were on our way to check out what the girls had set up…when we felt the ground start to quake…"

"A bonfire?" Robert asked pulling at straws.

Ari shook his head, "That was my first question, Mr. Williams isn't it? I asked if our fire could have been the spark that set off the explosion, but the commission says no." He looked deeply remorseful. "I'd give anything if both Sarah and Bryn were still with us…they were so full of life…"

Linda turned away, unable to hear the rest of what the young Greek man was saying. She placed her head on Jeremy's shoulder and let her tears fall.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19. Requiem

Jareth was sleeping, not peacefully perhaps, but he was sleeping. Ghillie Dhu had done all he could for the injured King, now all they could do was wait for him to heal. But the Healer himself had doubt about some of the scars, for the King had waited a long time to call upon his services. Still he was a royal Fae, and they were unique and a law unto themselves. Ghillie Dhu could but wait, and keep watchful eye on the King's condition. Daisy promised Devon to keep him altered to any changes in the King's condition when the Baron arrived early the next day to check on the King. Della was missing from her post but one of the other Harpies had moved to fill in and Devon didn't really worry. Jareth's guards seemed to be on their own system of rotation, and he didn't try to interfere. He returned to his home to find that the young lady he'd brought home was now sitting in the garden on one of the ornate ornamental benches staring off into space.

"I had not expected to find you up," he said as he approached. "You look deep in thought."

Bryn looked at him, "I was thinking of my family."

He drew a long breath, "I see."

"No," she shook her head. "You don't."

Taking a seat beside her he observed her and considered his next words before speaking. "You are most likely right, I don't see. Perhaps if you'd be so kind as to instruct me, then..."

"They think I'm dead," she interrupted him flatly.

Devon experienced an emotion he'd not expected, guilt. "Yes, I'm afraid they do."

"It's not fair to them," she whispered deep in her own remorse. "They didn't do anything to deserve this mess." She stood up, unable to sit beside him. "Nor does Sarah's family… or Sarah, she does not deserve this… this is his fault! YOUR KING…" the resentment she felt would not be held back a moment longer.

"Cariad," Devon's tone was cautionary but bordered on threatening. "I should be careful how I speak were I you."

Frustrated and at her wits end Bryn spun on him. "Would you really My Lord?" Sarcasm dripped from her lips and contempt lit her eyes. "Well forgive me if I can not oblige you and behave like a properly whipped puppy."

He fought the urge to tell her how beautiful she was angry, and instead became antagonistic. "How is this, the fault of the Goblin King?" He had also put emphasis on the word King.

Bryn glared at him, knowing she was about to say something that she shouldn't. "He stole Sarah's dreams,"

"Harvested," corrected Devon gently.

"Harvested," Bryn corrected with a bite to her tone. "He didn't think of the consequences."

"The same can be said for your friend Sarah in having wished away her little brother," argued the blond Fae mischievously. "Could it not?"

"It's not the same," Bryn gasped not sure she heard him right and now very defensively. "That's like comparing apples and oranges."

"Fruit, is fruit." Devon said rising easily from the bench. "You say that this is Jareth's fault, while I counter with its Sarah's."

"She was a child when she wished Toby away, my Lord… can the same be said for Jareth?" Bryn growled menacingly.

"Apples and oranges," he mused with a delightful smile.

The man's attitude was too much for Bryn. "He stole her brother, he stole her dreams…" the girl began to rant.

"Now Cariad," Devon admonished gently. "Don't play ignorant with me, I'm sure you of all people are aware of the cannons. You know very well the Goblins can not take what is not offered… and as for her dreams… I believe we've discussed her forfeit of them as the price of her having won the boy back…"

"No, Baron," she snapped harshly. "We did not _**discuss**_ it…you and that monster informed us that's the way it is…."

"That monster is my cousin, madam." Devon said coldly. "He is also the King of this realm and is due respect."

"My ass," she said turning her back on him. "Respect!"

Working to keep civil, Devon restrained himself from giving in to her taunt. With any other female he'd have sent them packing, but that was not an option here and he knew it. "He is not the one who declared this little war, now is he?"

"No," she spun about so hard that she nearly knocked him over. "He was perfectly content here in this little Fairy wonderland, while Sarah was holding on by threads."

"Content?" Devon reached forward, gripping her forearm to pull the girl forcefully toward him, glaring into her eyes he snarled. "You want to talk about holding on by threads… Until last night I've not seen him sooth himself with a single woman….and there have been any number who've offered… He's buried himself in the work of bringing this Kingdom back into its proper position, fighting for its identify, something that other Fae would have just as soon allowed to turn to dust. He has united countless scores of species in an effort to save the Kingdom!" His eyes burned with flames of pride. "He has worked until he's exhausted and he's done it all for the Kingdom!"

"She's been reduced to using medication and alcohol and still she finds no peace. For the love of the Gods and the seven Pillars, Baron, she can not bear to be touched….and she's like a tinderbox, ready to ignite! " Bryn countered struggling to break the Baron's hold. "If she's started this war, he drove her to it!"

"He offered her everything and she not only refused him, she rubbed his face in it!" Devon pushed the girl way, fearful of throttling her to the point of breaking her neck. "You would never understand…"

"Ditto!" Bryn turned and stomped off heading away from him, blindly.

"Cariad," he cried out sharply and pulled her back when her feet were nearly to the end of his lawn. He pulled her close, "No, you must never leave the estate, unless I am with you." His voice had become full of concern for her safety instead of full of fury. "I'm so sorry, Cariad." His arms folded about her, he kissed her hair, and held her close. "I'm sorry."

"It's not fair," she murmured as he held her rocking to and fro.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Sarah opened her eyes, and winced in pain. The memory of where she was flooded her brain overwhelming her. She was back in the Underground, she was back in the land of the Labyrinth. Turning her head she saw the Harpy watching her with hawkish eyes. "You're still here," she said hoarsely.

Della looked at her with eyes that held no real interest in her. "Don't make a big deal out if…I just wanted to be sure you didn't die overnight… it would not please the king."

"ha," Sarah scoffed, then winced as every small movement caused her pain.

"Take my word for it, girly," Della sneered. "Had the Goblin King wished you dead, you'd be dead… not merely bruised."

"Mutilated," Sarah groaned rising up on unsteady elbows, she looked down at her uncovered breasts. Seeing the little rings dangling she wanted to weep. "He's mutilated me." Coldly she turned to look at the Harpy; "With your help." She looked about the room, gradually seeing it as not just a room, but as a torture cell of its own. "Where the hell am I?'

Della still seated on the window sill opened her wings for a good stretch. "You are in the tower of_** Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_. That's Slave of Bondage, in case you care to know. Or do you speak Goblin?"

"No," Sarah growled in return. "I don't speak Goblin…"

"Pity," Della commented in a harassing tone. "Perhaps you should consider leaning the language." She looked over her shoulder at the sun rising in the sky. "Well, as you had the good grace not to go and die in the night on me, I'll be taking my leave of you. I'm sure someone will come sometime to give you your meal… Until then, why don't you acquaint yourself with your surroundings? You're going to be here a very long time."

Tight lipped and angry, Sarah watched the tormenting Harpy turn and glide out of the window. She chided herself for the feelings of loneliness she experienced the moment her tormenter had departed. The Harpy had given her one good bit of advice; she should acquaint herself with the surroundings. Rolling carefully to her side, making sure she didn't disturb the tender wounds, Sarah dangled her legs off the side of the bed. Placing her now bare feet on the stone floor she wondered if she could stand. Her shoulders ached, as did her legs from having struggled with the bindings used during her visit to the King's dungeon. She felt weak, shaky and still a bit nauseous. Carefully she stood up and gave herself a moment to adjust.

By the angle of the sun and the amount of light coming into her chamber, Sarah could tell it was still early in the morning. She wondered what time it was back at home, she was not even sure what day it was. Her measurement of time had seemed to have gone astray and vanished. Her breathe was very deep as she sighed, ruefully. Time as she knew it no longer really mattered.

The chamber was circular, nearly the same size as the throne room over all, Sarah surmised. The bed was not quite full sized but bigger than a twin. The frame was heavily carved, and the mattress seemed to be too firm to be just feathers. The walls were the same color as those in the Goblin Throne room, and had widows that were open to allow airflow. The one window that was closest was the one she'd been carried through. There was no ledge, no balcony, and no guardrail or balustrade. It was wide enough for a Harpy to enter, and very tall. Sarah wondered if there were ways to shut out the cold or the storms that must occasionally occur here.

The chamber was littered with ornate furnishings, a table that must have been used to feed the prisoner who lived here. A few heavy chairs not unlike the one the King had sat upon in the dungeon. A heavy ornately carved armoire, and some things that Sarah didn't even want to know the purpose of. She moved on unsteady legs, holding to the backs of chairs as she passed them. Slowly she made her way to an area that was set aside from the rest of the round chamber by a long tall silken curtain. Pulling the fabric back she found what to all intents and purposes was a privy and bathing area. While not the lap of luxury, it was at least better than a chamber pot and a basin. Sarah dreaded using the privy, fearful of what pain it would cause the tender area that had been assaulted. But nature would not be denied and she gave in at last to the urges of her bodily functions. There had been pain, just as she'd expected, but she lived though it.

In this modesty bathing area was a deep basin sink, with a pump handle for water. Above it was a tarnished metal mirror; Sarah didn't care for the reflection that looked back at her. There was a deep, wide basin formed from the rock or stone tiles that the room was constructed from, with a drain in the bottom. Sarah figured it had to be some kind of bath, and she would learn how it worked. Right now she didn't give a flying fig. Her hand moved the pump at the sink and cold water poured out of the spout. Sarah quickly cupped her hands beneath it and brought the cold water to her face. Pumping again she cupped the water in her hands and rinsed out her mouth. She repeated this a few times until she got the stale taste out of her mouth. Then she rinsed her face off once more before drying it in the soft linen that was hanging. Sarah wondered who else had used this chamber and now recently. She looked again at her reflection and grimaced.

Still unsteady on her legs, she moved carefully at a snails pace though the chamber until she reached the bed. Lowering herself carefully, she took a seat and drew the linen sheet up over herself. Only then did she allow herself to think of her family, and of the mess she'd left above. Tears welled, she fought them but they spilled out of her. There was only one good thing that had come of this, and that was Toby was still free. Sarah told herself she could endure anything that the Fae King could throw at her as long as the boy was free.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Della arrived at the corridor outside the King's bed chamber to find Daisy and a Harpy guard staring each other down. Della snapped her fingers and the Harpy inclined her head slightly before wordlessly taking her leave. Della looked down at the blurry eyed Goblin and snorted. "You look like hell, runt." Taking her position and crossing her arms she shook her head. "You shouldn't drink if you can't handle your liquor."

Daisy leaned on the wall, crossed her arms and looked the Harpy up and down wincingly. "You sleep in a windstorm?" she said at last, "I've seen better wings on a roast chicken."

Della ignored the comment and looked at the door of the King's chamber. "He sleeping?"

"Ghillie Dhu says he may need bed rest for as long as a week to remove all the poisons." Daisy sighed. "Those witches were rank amateurs… Magic in the hands of the knowing is dangerous enough… but in the hands of an unsupervised novice…" she grimaced. "There's an old Goblin saying, a little knowledge is a dangerous thing." She shook her head and sighed again. "They had just enough knowledge to be a danger to the King." Daisy snorted lightly. "Little wonder magic is a dying art on that side of the veil, and perhaps it's a good thing it is… If this is what happens when the powers are used by novices… Never heard of anything so foolish… working with magic without some one leading and teaching them…" Swiftly she changed the subject. "Was your trip back to the nest informative?"

"I've as many or more questions," Della mused. "I shall have to spend some time reading the glyphs." She confessed with some unease. "Luckily the Matron does read glyph… she can instruct me."

"Education is always a good thing," Daisy rested against the wall easily. "Knowledge is a valued treasure." She then shifted. "Surely you didn't spend the entire night reading the glyphs."

"No," Della said crossing her arms over the leather harness she wore. "I spent the night making sure the little _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_ didn't expire in the night."

Daisy snorted, sounding amused. "That one? Oh birdie, that one is far more resilient than you could ever know."

Seeing servants moving about, Della took on a more guarded stance, as did Daisy. Della looked at the other and said quietly. "You'll have to tell me about it sometime, runt."

"Sure, birdie." Daisy said as she watched the other end of the corridor.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Carefully and quietly Devon led Bryn back to the bench they'd been seat upon. Gently he urged her to sit while he knelt before her. Her hands were in her lap, he placed his over hers. "I deeply regret any sorrow I've been party to brining to your family, Cariad." He said consolingly.

Moss green eyes, red with tears looked at him in misery. "It's just so…"

"Unfair?" he questioned, and sighed deeply. "Yes, my dear, it is." Giving her hands a gentle squeeze he spoke carefully. "I could if you like, go above and cheek on things for you… give you a report on your family's… condition."

"I'm not sure that's a wise thing to do," Bryn admitted. "Perhaps it's best if I… let it go."

"Cariad," his voice was tender, considerate and thoughtfully selfless. "It's perfectly understandable that you need to mourn just as much as they do."

Bryn looked at him with concern. "I thought you said you'd never gone above before…that I was the first mortal you've had a close encounter with…"

"I admit," he said softly. "Your concerns above are not my only reasons for making such a journey… Some of my concerns are for the safety of my King and this Kingdom."

"I see," Bryn sniffed.

"Pax," Devon whispered leaning toward her and imploring her with a soft expression in his blue eyes.

"Fine," she sighed soberly. "Pax."

Devon rose and pulled her to her feet. "I shall report to you my findings… but I won't sugar coat the truth, Cariad. I will tell you the truth as I find it."

"That seems just," she agreed as he walked her back to the house. "How soon will you leave?"

"Immediately," he said boldly. "I've been to the castle, and the King is still recovering…" he moved on quickly, not wishing to discuss his cousin again with the girl, not yet. "I've no pressing duty at the castle today, and there are no audiences to be held… so I am free to go and investigate." He raised one of her hands and pressed it to her heart. "Promise me that you'll await my findings, and that you won't try to…escape."

"I won't leave the grounds." She promised.

"Good, perhaps you might find amusement in my library." He suggested as he led her though the house to the room filled with books. "I've a rather good one, you know."

"Don't most Fae?" she asked haughtily.

"Actually, no," he lamented. "I shall leave you here to amuse yourself." He patted her cheek then vanished.

"Damn good trick," Bryn mused softly. "Would have come in handy…" She moved to one shelf and began to look at the titles of some of the bindings. A few titles were in English, and she felt that was where she needed to start.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Devon materialized on the other side of the veil that separated the Fae world from the mundane one. He was on the grounds of the asylum, and was struck by the curious and unmistakable scent of his cousin the King. It was already mid morning here, and Devon could feel the chill in the air that told him the harvest season was in full swing. It had been warmer two nights ago when he'd come to rescue his cousin. He could see that there was little activity going on here now, but that there had been. He also knew the mortals had gleaned little in their investigations. The rubble was still smoldering, and looked relatively undisturbed.

He stayed stealthy, not wishing to be seen by any stray human who would be wondering about the grounds. It was easy enough to follow his cousin's scent trail, and he entered the little house, and moved up the stairs as Jareth had. He looked into the room that the girl Sarah had occupied. Picked up his cousin's scent clinging to the room nearly as strongly as the girl's scent, and found that somewhat amusing. Making his way down the hall he found the room that belonged to the girl in his keeping. The room was like her, orderly and with purpose, and much to his liking. He also could see it had been picked over. He wondered what it was Jareth had come here to retrieve, and made a mental note to ask the King about it later.

Moving back down the stairs Devon noticed a group of leather clad men gathering somberly. He magically placed himself closer to attend their conversation. All the men in the group had subdued and solemn expressions.

"Snake," one asked the man who seemed to be giving instructions. "Are you sure Bear is alright with this?"

"It was his idea," the man said gravely. "A way to honor Bryn and Sarah…"

A mountain of a man looked like he was on the verge of tears. "It's just not right," he grumbled. "No body found, no trace… not a bone…" He looked at the one called Snake with eyes full of misery. "Sarah was so strong; who'd have thought the earth could swallow her?"

Snake snorted, "I'd have thought after she shot you with that dart in the nuts you'd have hated her, Yuri."

"Takes a hell of a woman to take on me," Yuri mused. "I will always remember Sarah that way… one hell of a woman."

"I'll be damned," Snake smacked the man's chest. "You really did have a crush on her."

"Several of us had," one man sitting on a two wheeled contraption that Devon didn't recognize said. "After all she was not spoken for. Bear had and has Lil, you had Bryn, and …"

Snake shook his head, "I didn't have Bryn… I wish I had, but I didn't…. She allowed me to keep company with her. Nothing more than that…"

Devon could tell by the man's demeanor that he had been truly fond of the girl who now in his keeping. He continued to listen.

"What about Lil?" one of the men asked. "Is she going to be at this memorial?"

Snake shuddered lightly, thinking of how devastated Lilith had been; of how her mind seemed so fragile right now. "Bear says she will, but he also said they have her drugged to the gills. At least she'll be controlled."

The mountain of a man spoke again. "The cops and security at the University won't freak when we come roaring in, will they? Last thing we need is to be arrested at the memorial."

Snake shook his head, "Bear took care of it…. And his father greased enough palms to make our presence a bit more palatable." He looked at his wrist. "Time to saddle up boys… this shindig won't wait for anyone."

Devon watched them go, roaring off on the motorized vehicles he was not familiar with. Their trail was strong enough that he followed it with ease to the grounds of the University. He felt the presents of Bryn's scent, and found it oddly comforting. Looking about he mused at the attire worn by the mortals. Suits for the more authoritative, and garments he would never have lowered his standard to wear by what must be the student body. He took on a glamour causing his garments to appear appropriate to the time. He could see a crowd gathering on the green, even thought he day was slightly chilly. The sun was shinning giving a bit of warmth though the leave bare trees. Devon followed the crowd to where seats were set up and already being filled by students and instructors. What he'd mistaken for a green, was actually an open air amphitheater. He could hear the roar of the contraptions the leather men had rode in on, and he saw them take seats at the back of the crowds.

Near the front of the seating were two families. Two fathers, two mothers, united in grief. Students filled in the seats behind them and off to the side. Devon could tell Sarah's family from Bryn's with ease. Sarah had the same coloring as the woman resting her head on the shoulder of a man who had oddly Fae features. Devon mused that somewhere in the past one of his ancestors must have had a wonderful sexual fling with one of the High King's relations; the features of the High King's Kin were unmistakable. The woman's profile was very like her daughter's, and she had features that a Fae male could appreciate. Beside her, on the other side was a man that could only be Sarah's father, dark and brooding and boldly handsome. His arm was protectively about the shoulders of a pale creature with strawberry blond locks who was sobbing softly. She was holding a little fair haired boy on her lap. Devon knew that had to be the wished away boy that Sarah had won back at the cost of her dreams. He was struck by the look of the child, so out of place in this mundane setting, in this mundane world. The child didn't look sad, he looked peeved. As if he knew far more than the adults weeping about him.

Bryn's father looked lean and wiry, not barrel chested like Sarah's father. He looked like a man who'd seen a good deal of life, and not all of it pleasant. His eyes were the same mossy green as his daughter. But it was from the mother that Bryn had received her shock of reddish gold locks, a deeper red that shone in the sun. There was no other child seated beside them. Devon thought he'd have to ask Bryn more of her history when he'd a chance.

Devon moved closer to the front and off to one side. Both Sarah's mother and Bryn's suddenly stirred, and looked about. Devon found that disquieting and kept as well hidden as he could. Something had alerted both mothers, and he wondered if the magic the daughters possessed was something inherited not just wrestled from the universe. He'd heard of families who had possessed powers that were handed down like fine silver or china would be… He also knew the mundane world didn't tolerate magic and those who possessed it. He had heard stories told in the High King's court of dreams and others being chided and ridiculed into silence by the powers of the mundane world. He also knew that both Sarah and Bryn were naturals when it came to using magic, not so much for the third little witch who was drawing off the other two. Using his powers to cloak his presence he watched as a dark haired young man escorted the third little witch to a seat awaiting her across the isle from the two families. The girl was clearly under some kind of sedation. Her eyes were glassy and she looked numb, and her mouth was slack.

A man who obviously held some station of importance walked soberly across the staging and stood behind the podium, moved the microphone and spoke. "On behalf of the Williams and the Cystennin families, I thank you for coming to this memorial service. We are here to remember two fellow students. Sarah, and Bryn, whose lives were tragically cut short…."

Devon listened to the eulogy, and wondered if the man speaking had ever even taken the time to speak to either of the witches he was eulogizing. He stepped aside and the man who had led Lilith to her seat now moved forward. His face was serious, and filled with darkness.

"Bryn Cystennin, and Sarah Williams were both friends of mine… and I loved them like sisters…" He started eloquently. "Anyone who knew Bryn as a friend was fortunate, her loyalty and strength of character were amazing… she had a personality that never overshadowed anyone else's ego. She was loving, forgiving and intelligent. And will be miss by all whose lives she touched."

Devon found he had to agree with that assessment; Bryn Cystennin was a most intelligent woman. He looked candidly at her parents and wished he could spare them this. He wondered if there was a way he could help them cope with the loss without giving too much away. From the family he turned to look over at the third witch the one left behind. She was glassy eyed but muttering something and being shushed by the nurse who was seated with her.

"Sarah," the dark man began. "What can I possibly say about Sarah?" He looked at her family with what he'd hoped would come across as sympathy. He also looked at Lilith who was moaning audibly Sarah's name and crying bitter tears. "She was strong willed, and determined, and didn't suffer fools well." He looked back toward the back of the crowd, eyes meeting with Yuri. "She was open and accepting and if she was your friend you had someone on your side that would battle the very Gods themselves. If she was your foe," he paused. "Gods could not help you." He thought of the fate of Doctor Daniels, and a wistful smile played in the corner of his mouth. "All of us who knew her were aware of how fiercely loyal she was and of the importance she placed on family. Especially the value she viewed her in brother." He looked at the little boy who had been glaring at him with daggers in his blue eyes from the moment he'd taken the podium. "Those of us left behind must how honor her memory…and think of him as a member of our own families…just as Sarah was our sister…" He looked back at the bikers, giving them a quiet command.

Robert was disturbed by this, and pulled his wife and son closer. Devon saw the motion. A few others spoke praises as well, and the Fae Baron sat quietly listening to gain some insight on the fiery young woman in his keeping. He heard the complements and the endearments. What were missing were the comments on her fire, her passion, and her inspiration. Devon began to wonder if any of these people really had any connection to the girl. Until the man who'd been sitting in the very back of the gathering with the bikers walked forward. The one who had been called Snake moved to the podium and opened a book and read.

_**"What though the radiance which was once so bright be now forever taken from my sight, Thought nothing can bring back the hour of splendor in the grass, of glory in the flower; We will grieve not, rather find strength in what remains behind…"**_

The young man closed the book and looked at the gathered young people and the families. "That was one of Bryn's favorite poems… one over which she and I had argued on the meaning and depth of." He said wistfully. "No one could argue a point quite like Bryn, she didn't even have to raise her voice to make her point. She was full of life, and energy and fire…and I… loved her…" he admitted to the world what had been on his sleeve from the moment he'd met the red haired girl. "I loved her… Bryn would not want mourning and grieving. She would want us to go on with our lives and strive to do better… she would charge each of us to go forth and do battle for justice and for honor. To find strength in what remains…." He left the podium quietly.

Devon watched as the young mortal returned to the group in the back. A prayer was read, and everyone began to move forward to give their condolences to the families. The young man who was seemingly the new keeper in control of the third witch was one of the first to go forward. He'd left the moaning Lilith in the nurse's hands as he went. Devon watched him shake hands with both fathers and say something supportive to the two mothers. He noticed that Linda didn't seem to want to hear what he had to say. It was as the man began to walk away that Devon noticed the little boy glaring at him. The man paused looked over his shoulder and raised a brow before turning his attention back to Lilith.

Devon had not planned on saying anything to the families. He was surprised when he found himself standing before Bryn's parents. "My heart felt condolences for your loss." He said quietly.

Bryn's mother stared at him. "Do…we know…you?" she asked hesitantly. In her eyes was something akin to recognition.

Thinking quickly Devon answered. "No, I've only recently made your daughter's acquaintance. However I was very impressed by her." He restrained from making any bodily contact. "I am sorry for your loss."

"Thank you," Errol said quietly, an arm about his wife for support.

Devon was not going to speak to the Williams as they were surrounded by well wishers. And having narrowly escaped detection by Bryn's mother, he didn't want to chance it with contact with Sarah's mother. He turned to walk away and was nearly at the end of the amphitheater seating area when a hand gripped his coat and pulled at him. He turned and looked down into eyes that were dark with fury.

"Where are they?" the little boy demanded darkly, gritting his teeth.

"Whom?" Devon asked back making an effort to appear slightly perplexed by the child's question.

"My sister and her friend… where are they?" the five year old demanded again.

Devon looked back at where the parents were still being surrounded. "What makes you think I would know?"

Now the boy was growling. "Because someone like you has them," he said with more conviction and maturity than a five year old mortal child should or could have. However this was no ordinary five year old mortal child.

Devon looked at him; he was changing, and aware. His time in the Goblin Castel may have been short, although by what Devon could see, it was long enough. The child was a changeling; "Someone like I? I'm not sure what you mean, lad." He waved his hand, meaning for the child to return to his parents. "Be a good boy and go back to your parents… they need you now."

"And I need my sister!" his little hand was balled into a tight white fist. "I want her back! And I want her back now."

"Indeed," Devon mused looking down. "You remind me of a boy I knew a long time ago, He didn't like being having things taken from him either… still doesn't for that matter." The Baron mused at how very like Jareth this boy was; odd coincidence.

The lower lip on the little boy began to tremble, but not with tears, with fury. "You're not like the rest of these people here… you're different… and someone like you came and took my sister away…"

Devon knelt, becoming eye level with the child. "So sure are you?"

"I know what I know," Toby snapped, crossing his arms and looking haughtily at the Baron. "Now you go tell whoever he is that I want my sister back! And I won't rest until I get her back."

"How like Jareth you are," Devon mused softly. The child was mimicking the King's very mannerism.

The name struck a cord with the boy, and the blue eyes went stormy. "Jareth," he repeated the name. He grabbed the man by the lapels. "You tell this Jareth I want my sister and her friend returned."

Devon stood up, looking down at the boy with a haughty expression of his own. "Sorry little man, I fear for now you'll have to learn to live with disappointment." He mused the boy could be trouble some time, and would bear watching. "Now go back to your mother, and behave."

"I'll find a way," the boy threatened before turning his back on the Fae Baron.

"I'd wager you could," Devon muttered as he allowed magic to swallow him away from the mundane world.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Ari had asked the nurse to take Lilith to the car that was waiting. He found Snake and Yuri standing guard and looked at them. "If anyone asks, Lilith is my girl…understood?"

Snake looked at the drugged girl in the back of the limo. "You intend to keep her in a stupor the rest of her life?"

"At least while the Williams and the Cystennin families are in town." Ari stated before waving Yuri off so he could have words with Snake.

"Can't be much fun in that condition," the other mused.

"She's not," Ari complained bitterly. "However I'm not taking any chances… she was muttering during the eulogies. Imagine if she was not drugged." Looking into the limo he rolled his eyes. "She'd have caused a scene, and there'd be more questions… as it is there's a little too much…questioning going on." He leaned on the limo and pinched his nose. "We're going to have to clear out the house and get everyone off site, do you think you can get a crew to meet me there tomorrow and close the house the girls were using?"

"Sure, Yuri and I will put together a team." Snake nodded. "How many of us do you want?"

"Six boys should be plenty, and bring a truck…" Ari opened the back door of the limo. "Be there early."

Snake shook his head and watched the man drive off.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Devon didn't return directly to his own home, he went straight to the castle. As he approached the corridor his cousin's bedchamber occupied, he noted the grim faces of the two guards. "Is he awake?" he asked Daisy.

"And in a foul humor," she warned as she opened the door to allow him to enter. "Enter at your own risk," she teased. "And don't blame me if he snaps your head off."

Devon winked at her and continued to go in. He found the King sitting up in his bed looking at notes and petitions. "Good Goddess man," he grabbed the scroll in the King's hands away. "You were nearly at death's door yesterday, so give yourself time to rest. All this can wait for a day or two."

"I've a Kingdom to run!" Jareth countered pulling the scroll back. "There are many little issues that must be dealt with before they become big problems."

"Ah yes, well you've got one such little issue _**above**_." Devon said taking a seat on the large bed. "And _**he**_ could become a big problem."

"He," Jareth frowned. "What were you doing above and who are you hinting at?"

"I went to make sure we didn't leave anything behind that shouldn't have been…could have saved myself that part of the trip…as you went back…Don't bother denying, I'd know your scent any where."

The King shrugged, "I had to be sure there was nothing left behind that would give our existence away. All the books and tools of magic used by the three were confiscated and are now is safe keeping. So why else did you stay above?"

Devon stretched. "I then attended the memorial service that was held for the girls…"

Jareth looked away from his cousin and back at the scroll, "That sounds droll." His tone was laced with haughty sarcasm. "Did you pass on our condolences?"

"Oh it was droll," Devon lounged back; "Especially when I was accosted and threatened by one very angry little boy." With great satisfaction he watched as his cousin dropped the scroll and turned his attention fully to Devon. "He sent you a message…"

"He sent me a message?" Jareth tried not to look too pleased. "Really, and what pray tell was it?"

Devon sat up, "I quote, 'You tell this Jareth I want my sister and her friend returned.' Unquote… oh and by the by, he seemed to know I was not like the other people attending….The little imp said that he knew someone like me had come and taken his sister and her friend away. He was quite adamant about it, bordering on rude."

"The rascal," Jareth mused happily; "Anything else?"

"Yes," Devon said with care; "He said he'd find a way to get her back."

Jareth chuckled softly, "I'll bet he would, if it were possible. Ah well, I imagine if I make a trip above to see him…"

"Out of the question!" Barked the Baron swiftly; "You are very ill, you'll stay put and that child will wait." He stood up. "You haven't been sneaking off to look at him all along have you?"

"No," Jareth said honestly, but didn't mention the Goblins who made it there business to keep an eye on the child in the name of the King. "I've not seen him since the night I…lost him." There was something in Jareth's voice that warned his cousin to ask nothing else in the matter of the boy.

"Well good," Devon stated looking at him worriedly. "Now, I must go tell Miss Cystennin how her funeral went."

"Give her my regards," Jareth said as he opened the scroll again. Remembering something he looked at his cousin. "You did get her to eat something didn't you? You have to make sure that the girl is bound to the kingdom…" he warned slightly angry. "It must be impossible for her to leave here…it's the only reason I agreed to you keeping her…"

"I'm as well aware of the _**Persephone Cannon**_ are you are, cousin." Devon said icily. "And so was the girl, she took food and drink of her own volition." He smiled softly remember the pleasant dinner.

Jareth waved the slightly gloating man off. "Go, run to your pretty painted bird." He looked now to his scrolls.

Devon bowed and took his leave.

The moment the Baron was gone, Jareth lowered his scroll and thought of the boy and wondered how he was going to manage to trick that little imp into coming into the Kingdom on his own. Because the girl had more or less won him back, Jareth could not do anything about him on the other side but watch and make sure no harm befell in until he was of age…unless the child wished himself away or was wished away again. Were that to happen the King would be free to lay claim to him as a subject of the Goblin Realm. Jareth reclined and remembered the baby and wondered what kind of child little Toby had turned out to be.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Devon found Bryn sitting quietly in the room he'd left her in, with a book in her hands. She was seated in one of his favorite chairs, looking very comfortable and peaceful. "What are you reading?" He asked as he entered the room.

"A book of poems…you've a rather good collection. Although I can't read some of the books printed in what I assume are Fae languages." She commented looking up from the book. "How are things…above?"

"Somber," he answered truthfully. "They had a rather thoughtful ceremony for the families." He took a seat in the seat that was the mate to the one she was occupying. "Your parents seemed very nice…"

"You talked to them?" Her face darkened, then the moment passed and she seemed resolute once more. "How did that go?"

"I offered them my condolences on their loss." He answered honestly. "I shall tell you all about it at dinner." He promised. "But now I've an hour of work awaiting me, reports I need to see to for the King. You should continue your reading." He rose and smiled at her. "I'll see you at dinner."

Bryn watched the man walk gracefully away. "Oh you think you'll see me, Baron," she mused. "But you see just what I allow you to see…" She stood up, moved to the desk and pulled the book she'd hidden under the desk out once more. She was going to learn all she could, and perhaps more than the Baron intended her to know. She looked at the other books, and wondered how she could learn the languages that were covered in all these volumes.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Night was falling in the kingdom of the Labyrinth. Goblins were scurrying to their homes, and the other residents of the Kingdom were hurrying home as well. In a tower attached to the castle beyond the Goblin City sat a girl who was lamenting her failed attempt to win back her dreams. Having spent the day watching shadows crawl up the wall, she wondered if her night was to be spent listening to the sounds of the kingdom going home and to bed. She sat in the darkening room, lamenting over her failures and gloating over her one major success. Toby belonged to her parents, not to the King. And he would remain so.

She heard the rumble of her stomach for the one hundredth time that day. Walking slowly she made her way to the sink and cupped her hands under the pump and took a few short sips. It was not nourishment but it did work to quiet the rumblings. Once she'd sipped down some more water, she returned to her bed and watched as the moon began its rise. Quietly she wondered to herself how Bryn was, and if she were being treated well.

Sarah wondered what time it was, or day for that matter. How long had she been here in the land of the Labyrinth? When her stomach again complained, she tried to remember when she'd last eaten. Water was not doing it; her stomach was growling and churning. To take her mind off her growing hunger, she walked to the window. Carefully she stood so she could look out without fear of falling. The Harpy had been right; it was a long nasty fall to the base. Slowly she descended, until se was seated on the cold stone floor looking out at the Underground night.

Sarah's last trip here had not allowed her time to really appreciate all the sights and sounds and smells. She'd been on a mission, one that was too important to mess up sight seeing. The rose and purple that had filled the sky when the sun had gone down had now vanished and the sky was a velvety blanket of darkness littered with stars. Resting her head on the wall, Sarah listened to the sounds that had been filed in her memory. She wondered if anyone in the Labyrinth would remember her. What was it the King and his cousin had said about shifting memories? She wondered how her friends had faired… she had promised to call them if she'd needed them, and had wanted to…however she had held back fearful of what Jareth could or would do to them.

She could hear the guard in the palace changing, she could hear the sounds of dogs and cats and other creatures. And she could hear her stomach. Once more she wondered how long it had been since her last bite, and how long it would be until her next.

The cold stones were not helping; she was feeling stiff as well as achy. Rising to her feet she moved slowly back to the bed and sat down. She wondered if the pain would ever leave her. "Dear Goddess," she murmured dejectedly. "How could you turn your back on me?" Sarah lowered her self to the mattress and again allowed her bitter tears to flow. "How could you let him win?" Exhausted, and worn down by lack of food, the girl felt the world fading, and darkness enfold her in a dreamless world.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

**Author's note:**

The _**Persephone Cannon or the Persephone Rule also known as the Hades edict;**_

A good many of you have asked what this is… Well it's a rule that's written in stone. Never eat or drink anything in a Fae Kingdom if you are not a Fae. Having once eaten the food of the underworld, Persephone could never be free of the place. Therefore anyone who eats the food of the underworld or the Fae Kingdoms is now subject to its claim on them.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20. That which will not be healed**

Bryn had returned to the suite of rooms Devon had provided, a maid was now waiting for her and helped her to change out of her day gown into something more appropriate to the evening. The maid was a quiet creature who was called Mri, and she seemed most respectful. Her hands were skilled in the ways of the Fae styles of garments, something Bryn could not claim to be. When she finished working her wonders, Bryn looked very appealing.

Devon was awaiting her at the foot of the stairs; he too had changed into evening attire. "You look very pretty." He commented as she moved down the stairs with a graceful gait.

"Thank you, sir." She answered. "But I'm afraid I cannot take any of the credit. Mri is the one you should complement."

Devon raised one brow; "Tell me, is the maid working out?"

"She's very good at what she does," Bryn commented carefully. "And she's pleasant enough."

"Good, I'm glad." He said taking her hand and escorting her to the little dinning room. "Now you must tell me how your day went, and I shall tell you about the little trip I took Above." He seated her and then took his own seat.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Daisy was ready when the relief guards showed up. She bid them good night and sauntered down the hall heading toward the guard house and her evening meal; Della was strutting at her side. She looked up at the Harpy who usually went off to the quarters kept aside for Harpy guards. "I thought you'd be rushing off to find yourself something warm and bloody."

"In due time," Della said keeping pace with the small but swift Goblin. "Before you go into your meal, would you tell me something..."

"If I can," Daisy placed her hand on her hilt at her side. "What information do you need, birdie?"

Della crossed her arms, "I'd like to know about _**him and her**_."

"That would take more than a few minutes," Daisy mused softly. "Tell you what, you go hunt down your dinner, I'll go eat the stew that cook has burned, and we'll meet at the pub in say two hours from now. And over a nice pint, I'll be more than happy to answer all your questions."

Della felt her stomach churn and growl. "Yes, I'm unusually hungry this evening, alright. The pub in two hours, order me my regular." She headed for the exit and the freedom of the night skies.

Daisy went into the dinning hall used by the Goblin guards and found it fairly empty. She sat down at the long wooden trestle table and waited for her meal to be served. The King had made few changes in the castle but the best was in taking on more servants and having the staff of the Goblin kitchen increased. Most of the non Goblin staff had their own dinning area, and kept to themselves. So it was not unusual when Daisy left her post late in the evening for this dinning room to be almost empty. Her dinner was set before her, and she quietly ate.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Sarah lay in the bed, wondering what day it was, and why she was so dizzy and weak. She rolled to her side only to disturb the fresh wounds on her breasts, and rolled back to her back with stinging tears in her pale jewel eyes.

From the outside world, she could hear the sounds she'd heard here before. One sound brought fresh tears, the sounds of a great beast in the forest roaring. She recognized the sound, it could only belong to Ludo, and it was at some distance. She wondered if the gentle giant still remembered her at all… or was she just a fleeting thought.

She had wanted to call out to them, so many times…but to keep them safe from the King's wrath… she told her self over and over, she'd done it to keep them safe. Lying here in the dark, hungry and weak, she now had to admit to herself, that she'd not called on them for fear of having to face Jareth yet again. "My will is strong," she whispered to herself. "And my Kingdom as great…."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

"Your mother," Devon began his conversation pensively; "Seems a rather… sensitive being…"

"Sensitive," Bryn repeated and shrugged. "Yes, I suppose that's as good a description of my mother as any other."

The Fae Baron pursed his lips, not sure if the girl was play acting or just not listening to him. "I mean she's sensitive to things that are out of the ordinary." He sipped his wine.

Bryn looked at him rather blankly for a moment. "I was under the impression that was what you meant." She leaned back and looked at him. "Did something happen when you went above that I should know about?"

Devon thought of the memorial, and of the young man in leather who lamented her being taken from him. But it was her mother's and Sarah's mother's reactions that were foremost on his mind. "When I arrived at the appointed place where they were going to eulogize you and the other girl…"

"Sarah, her name is Sarah." Bryn's voice was tight and a little angry.

"Yes," Devon nodded. "Both your mothers seemed to be aware of me, even though I was not seated close to them."

"That would not be unusual," Bryn took a sip of the wine in her crystal goblet. "Both of our mother's are Celts. As are our fathers, however the women in Celtic lines are usually the ones who are… sensitive as you've observed."

Devon frowned, "Bryn, were you aware of this before you took up with Sarah and the insane little Greek?"

It was Bryn's turn to frown, "I have been aware since I was a child, Baron."

Devon leaned his elbow on the table, cradling his chin in his hand. "Then how could you allow yourself to be party to all those dark rituals?"

"Sarah was trying to retrieve a part of her self," Bryn said flatly. "I don't expect you to understand."

"She should not even have been able to remember," Devon murmured looking at his untouched dinner. "When a runner leaves the Labyrinth, the memory fades… It was a safeguard put into place long before we came here…. By we; I mean the Fae presence here in the Kingdom."

"Well her memory was foggy…" Bryn admitted as she played with a fork full of food on her plate. "The only thing she knew for sure was that she could not dream…. And then when the memory came flooding…" She placed her fork down and changed the subject. "How were my mother and father?"

"Gracious." Devon observed softly. "I had not planned on speaking to them, but found myself quite inexplicably standing before them offering them my condolences…."

Holding up her hand, Bryn halted his conversation. "Have you any idea of how disconcerting it is to hear of ones own funeral and memorial? I mean I'm use to bizarre occurrences in my life, but this…this takes the cake." She pushed her chair back and rose to her feet unable to remain seated. "Baron, do you really think this is normal dinner conversation?"

Devon still leaning on his elbow looked at her with amusement. "Miss Cystennin, I don't find anything about our situation… normal."

Bryn gripped the back of the chair she'd been seat on moments ago. "At least that seems to be one point on which we agree."

"Oh dear," he moaned softly. "You're about to begin ragging on the King again, aren't you?"

"In a word, yes," Bryn gripped the back of the chair tighter, her knuckles turning white.

Devon tossed his linen napkin onto the table. "Well there goes dinner," he leaned back, crossed his arms and sighed. "Go head, rail if you must."

"I don't understand you!" She burst out angrily. "Explain to me how you can possible defend a blackguard like this King."

"He's the King, Cariad." Devon shrugged. "What's to defend, if he makes a demand or a rule… he's the King."

"He handed me over to you like a sack of wheat and you have no qualms…" She began to rail.

"Correction, I requested you…" Devon smiled softly. "And the King granted me a boon… you are the spoils of war, remember?"

"War," the girl lifted the back legs of the chair off the floor and swiftly placed it down again. "If there was a war as you are so fond of claiming, then it was your King who initiated it!" She released the chair all together. "He didn't have to take Sarah's dreams… it was petty… no it was worse than petty… it was… grudging. One hears how gracious Kings of the Fae realms are… and…"

"Where on earth did you hear that Fae Kings were…. Gracious?" Devon asked skeptically. "Talk about Fairy Tales…." He waggled a long finger at her. "You know little or nothing about real Fae Cariad."

Bryn paused in her argument, her face blanked out and she felt her mouth drop. "I beg your pardon?"

"Even with all your study of Celtic folk lore and I'm sure you've made a hobby of it," he observed in a genuinely sympathetic tone. "You know little of what we Fae truly are." Pouring more wine he turned the tables on the girl. "Cariad, I confess I know little of your world… the place you lived and the laws by which your people govern themselves, however I'm sure that you follow those laws because they are the laws…"

"Your point?"

"I don't have to agree with my cousin to follow his laws," Devon sipped the wine slowly, savoring the bouquet of the vintage. "As to Fae Kings being gracious… well that's a fine little Fairy story, but not entirely true… Fae Kings like any other King must be strong and ruthless at times. Ruling is a brutal business, Cariad."

Moss green eyes watched him, "I have no doubt…"

"On the contrary," he countered a bit icily. "That's all you seem to have is doubts." He pointed to her chair. "Do sit down," he commanded gently making it sound more like a suggestion. "Allow me to give you some basics."

Taking her seat again, Bryn frowned. "What basics?"

Devon swirled the wine in his goblet, watching the trails and admiring the work that went into making the libation for his pleasure. "First, you are going to have to relinquish this ridicules resentment you've built up for the Goblin King… it's a waste of time. Secondly, you are now and forever more a subject of the Kingdom of that very same King…"

"An unwilling subject," protested the young woman; "More a prisoner of war."

Devon set the wind down and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Cariad, prisoners of war have a glimmer of hope of escape or release… you have neither." He looked over at her. "I will not call you property, nor will I call you chattel;" His eyes were unsympathetic as he looked at her when he released the bridge of his nose. "You're an intelligent young woman; Cariad surely that fine mind of yours could be put to better use."

Bryn felt the sting of his gentle insult. "What would you have me do, my Lord Baron?"

"Instead of plotting in your dark little Celtic heart how to get even with the King," he watched her mouth drop again and knew he was right; "Why don't you learn about the history of this King?"

"I don't like being treated like a bird in a gilded cage…" Bryn countered with a firm tone. "Wolves don't make good house pets, Baron… we are meant to be free… and wild…not domesticated… we become dangerous when kept in captivity."

"Even a wolf knows when it has to reset its territory, Cariad…and as for dangerous… Darling girl you've no idea of how much danger you were in before I stepped in and suggested to the King that he…give you to me." Devon poured more wine for the young woman. "Permit me to enlighten you. You understand the canons governing magic and its uses, do you not?"

"More than Lilith did," Bryn admitted fingering the stem of her goblet. "Had I the least idea she had handed Sarah a copy of the _**La Tène**_ scrolls I'd have put a stop to the entire operation."

"Cariad," his voice was low, dangerous and enticing at the same time. "Do you for one moment really believe you had that kind of power? I don't… in this we are minor players… supporting the main attraction. But just to clarify in my own mind, why would you have put a stop to it? What was it about the scrolls that you found… unacceptable?"

Bryn wondered if she was hearing the ticking of a clock or the beating of her own heart as she considered his question. "My Lord Baron," her voice was more respectful and demure. "We three had only been working as a small circle for a short time… and although I'd had some training previously… we were to all intents and purposes unsupervised. The spells in those scrolls frighten magic users far more advanced than we three novices. I know of Ban Drui who stay as far from them as they can get…they are dangerous in the hands of a experienced witch… and catastrophic in the hands of someone as unbalanced as …"

"Sarah?"

"Lilith," Bryn removed her fingers from the stem of the goblet and tapped lightly on the table cloth. "You see Sarah, although holding on by threads, was far more balanced then Lilith… Sarah just wanted her dreams back, oh a perhaps a touch of revenge… Lilith…. She wanted something darker… She was willing to open a Pandora's box." Bryn was still disturbed by the events that had played out.

"Why Morrigan?" he asked softly; "Why that Goddess?"

"Who better to go into battle with?" Bryn asked still feeling uneasy about the ritual that had brought the Goblin King into the mundane realm without being summons by a wish. "Too questioned Sarah on beseeching Bloody Morrigan…"

"On Avalon there is a place, old and seldom visited called Morrigan's Dance. It had once been where Fae who were faithful to the Goddess Morrigan had worshiped, and still held disturbing energies. It was there Jareth was standing when you three pulled him out of the Fairy Lands…. I suspect because of that there was no disturbance, and his disappearance would have gone unnoticed had I not witnessed it." He looked at Bryn with a schooled face. "I was under the impression that the _**La Tène**_ scrolls were kept under guard and key by magic users on your plane."

"I have no idea how Lilith got a hold of the scrolls translation… or if she even really knew what it was she was handing over to Sarah." Bryn sighed darkly. "It was in the scrolls that Sarah found the ritual and the invocation to Morrigan."

"The moment Lilith gave the scroll to Sarah, fates had been sealed… yours, mine, the King's and Sarah's…. and yes, even Lilith's fate had been sealed." Devon reached over, placing a hand on Bryn's. "It's not our war, little one. But we are casualties of this war none the less." His fingers laced into hers. "Accepting our fate does not mean we don't have misgivings…"

"I'm not sure I can accept my fate…" Bryn stated flatly.

"You took the first steps, Cariad… you ate and drank the food of the underworld…freely of your own will." He reminded her gently and compassionately. "I didn't force you."

"No, you didn't…" She agreed feeling the pressure of his fingers on hers. "And for that I thank you, Baron."

"Devon, Cariad… my name is Devon." His voice was soft and full of empathy.

She shook her head, "I can't… it's too soon… Baron, and I have too many…wounds."

He sighed. "I have hope."

"For what?" She asked frustrated with the situation.

"For a future," he suggested.

Bryn pulled her fingers out from under his. "You've already said that you intend me to be your little playmate in bed, that's not much of a future."

Devon looked at her, "Cariad, have you never…"

"I'm not a virgin," She looked away.

Knowing the subject matter being discussed was not to her liking, he shifted gears. "Cariad, although you are under my care, and I cannot allow you to wonder about the Kingdom freely… I can offer you limited freedom here in this house…on this estate. I can instruct you as to the history of the Kingdom, and acquaint you with some of its more palatable features." He extended to her his hand, open palmed. "Pax?"

Placing her hand on his, she sighed. "Pax."

Enclosing the hand he smiled. "Good, now, let's try to finish something of this dinner…"

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Daisy had found the pub to be nearly as empty as the dinning hall had been and wondered if the others had gone on holiday. The pub keeper brought over her tankard, promising to bring another when Della joined the Goblin. She had not been there but for a little over half an hour when the Harpy, fresh from a Kill sauntered in. Della's eyes were still filled with bloodlust as she swaggered over to where Daisy sat. She saw the pub keeper rush over with a tankard of ale and she smiled at her partner. "Ah Goblin Ale," she said raising the tankard. "How I love it."

Daisy snorted and downed the rest in her tankard. "So Birdie, just what is it you'd like to know?"

Della looked about the almost empty pub; there were only Goblins in the establishment. "Can we talk freely?"

"Aye, we can." Daisy nodded. "There's none here who have memory shifts."

Della griped the edge of the table. "That's one of the things I need to know about…." She growled angrily. "Whose idea was it, and just whose memory is shifted?"

"Not yours," Daisy said lightly. "Your kind was not involved in the first time Sarah was here." She smiled at the pub keeper who brought over more ale.

The Harpy's edginess subsided a bit. "When did she first visit?"

"A few years back," Daisy said drinking her libation. "Spent eleven hours in the Labyrinth…and reached the castle against all odds…" She smiled at some distant memory of that night.

"So his nibs went over the edge over a girl who wished away her brother?" Della frowned disturbed by the idea.

"Hell no," Daisy scoffed. "He was already stalking her, following her around a park she frequented, and even knew where she lived… it was no accident he was there the night she wished the child away…" She smiled wickedly. "You see he'd been called between the veils by something in the girl… and what no one knew…."

"Called between the veils?" It was Della who was now scoffing. "OH come now, you'd have me believe that the mighty Goblin King was nothing more than a lovesick …."

"He was…." Lamented Daisy; "And is."

"My race," Della said softly, almost fearfully. "Is comprised of females who hunt down a mate, consummate and then devourer… only females are born to us… there is no love… no fated relations… but we are aware of them." She griped her tankard. "Are you telling me the King and this…mortal are… fated?"

"So it would seem," Daisy sighed.

"Shit," groused the Harpy darkly. "They can not bear the sight of each other."

"I never said it was a pretty tale, the story of this Goblin and his Mortal." Daisy commented gently. "But it's a Goblin tale," she lifted her tankard; "One worth the telling." Shifting in her seat, the Goblin female raised one leg, and rested her foot on the edge of the bench seat of the booth she and the Harpy were seated at. "You would not believe the lengths the King went to for the girl, and still she managed to out maneuver him."

Della stretched her wings to their full span. "I don't see any thing extraordinary about this mortal.."

"She came here, brazen and bold," Daisy snorted loudly. "Twisting inhabitants about her finger…. Including one of the King's own guards…"

"Treason," questioned the Harpy.

"Not exactly," mused the Goblin woman. "More a case of an outwitting…" She thought gently of Didymus. "And chances for an old dog to behave like a young pup…. And remember the code of olde…and go forth on a quest…" The Goblin smiled softly. "The Kingdom was never so alive as it was when the girl came to run the Labyrinth… and even the Labyrinth was reluctant to let her go…"

"So, how is it a mortal escaped a mighty Fae?" Della questioned.

"Near as I can figure it, it has to do with the fact that she was young… and innocent herself." Daisy mulled over the facts still wound in her mind. "See she had just entered what the mortals call puberty…and was in that in-between place … not quite a child and most definitely not yet a woman."

Della blinked, for she herself was not yet quite ready to breed, and understood what few males would. "A juvenile?"

"Aye, but already with a soul that was crying out to the soul on this side…." Another long swig and then she finished. "Who was but a juvenile as well."

"You think of his majesty as a juvenile?" Scoffed the Harpy.

"In the scope of their lifespan, oh yes." Daisy stated audaciously. "Who else but a juvenile would do what he did? Go in the dark of the night for revenge against someone who'd bested them at their own game?" Daisy lowered her leg and leaned on the table. "The Labyrinth is his game! He is the first King since Zoltarie to understand and nurture it, this living creature we live upon. So humiliated and affronted was our proud King that he waited outside her window in owl form until her celebration of victory was ended, and she had gone to sleep… then he crept into her room, deepened her sleep… took her first kiss, stole it from her sleeping lips…. And harvested her dreams…cursing her, and kissing her at the same time….Aye, he's worthy of the title Goblin King…living here, he's become one of us…He's more Goblin now than Fae." She leaned closer. "He even repeats the actions of Zoltarie…. One would think he was the old King reborn in Fae guise."

"Zoltarie," cautioned the Harpy; "Went mad due to his obsession with the mortal he kept."

"No," countered Daisy; "It was not the keeping of the mortal that drove the King to madness… it was her murder and the betrayal…"

"Betrayal?" Della grabbed the Goblin by the leather jerkin she wore. "What betrayal?"

Prying the claws digging into the jerkin free, Daisy frowned. "Claws in Birdie," she soothed. "Zoltarie was betrayed by a member of his court. One who was jealous of the King's possession of the mortal. Funny when you think how close Zoltarie came to butchery the bitch himself. Talk about loggerheads. From the moment Zoltarie took her captive until the moment she was stolen from him they were in a constant battle… perhaps that is why they mated so…passionately."

"A Goblin mated to a Mortal?" Della shuddered in disgust.

"It happens," shrugged the Goblin woman. "Many of us have mixed blood in the Kingdom. I'm half elf, half Hobgoblin…." She motioned to the pub keeper. "He's half dwarf and half mountain goblin."

"But a mortal…" her distaste in mortals was showing strongly. "That's disgusting." Della leaned over the table now. "I'm told they turned their backs on magic!"

"Some," cautioned Daisy. "Others, like Sarah Williams hold to those old tales… ironic, isn't it? I'll bet twenty kopeks she use to dream of being rescued from an ivory tower like the very one she's in now." A fleeting sadness passed over the face of the female Goblin guard. "There's little or no chance of rescue for her, not now not from the moment the King moved to take revenge…. Perhaps not from the moment he took notice of her." She motioned for yet another tankard of ale.

Della accepted the ale poured into her tankard. "Who would want to rescue the enemy of the King?"

"Three subjects I can think of," Daisy lamented. "Hoggle the gardener, Ludo a beast of the forest and Sir Didymus…."

"Sir Didymus is the King's trusted…."Della paused, blinked and drew back. "Sir Didymus is the knight you spoke of… the old dog…acting like a young pup?" When Daisy nodded, Della questioned hotly. "How can that be? The King and Sir Didymus are close… very close… why he trained the King in the art of fencing and quarter staff! You're telling me that a Knight of the First Order would turn his back on King and country for that…girl?"

"Let us just say, Sarah Williams has an unusual way about her…." Daisy mused. "Because of that way, anyone who'd come into contact with her that was not of Goblin blood had to have their memories… shifted." Daisy now played with the empty tankard. "You see, Birdie… Sarah Williams was the only mortal to ever reach the castle… that and a few other facts the King would prefer the Fae world not be made aware of… are the reasons he went to such lengths to cover his tracks. The girl should not have remembered…no mortal who goes through the veil remembers beyond the night of the running…. The King erases the memory of the wished away…they become non existent in that realm… and they take up a new life here…."

"But Sarah Williams remembered…"

"Set out upon her own path of vengeance…" Daisy nodded.

Della stretched, "I grow weary," She twitched her wide wings. "I need a good night's sleep…" Standing up she looked about the pub. "It's a quiet night, and there's little to do until the King is recovered…."

"Go to your nest," suggested the Goblin. "I am off to my cot…I'll see you tomorrow…"

"Thanks for the ale, runt." Della moved toward the door. "You know," she said looking over her shoulder. "You're not half bad for a Goblin…"

Daisy watched the winged creature move out the door. "And you're not bad for a overgrown parakeet." She pushed the tankard aside, placed coins on the table to pay the tab.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Bryn was listening to Devon read a poem, thinking that he had a good voice and very pleasant delivery. She tried to hide a yawn, not wishing to insult him more than she had at dinner.

Devon closed the book after marking the passage with a ribbon. "You are tired, my dear," he said placing the book down on a side table. "Come let me see you to your door."

"No," she protested. "Just because I'm tired is no reason you've got to end your evening." She stood up. "I can go up on my own."

"Cariad," he rebuked her softly. "I don't know what has happened to manners in your realm."

Bryn snickered. "I'm afraid a good many things have been swept aside in the name of progress."

Devon offered her his arm. "How am I to court you if you won't allow me to do the little things?"

"You don't need to court me," she protested looking at his arm. "I don't want you to."

"Cariad," He placed a hand under her chin. "I am not above going to bed with women I don't know… in your case… I should like to get to know you first…"

"You may not like what you learn." She warned pulling free of his fingers. "I'm not a trick pony you know."

"Cariad," he sighed heavily. "We have a truce."

Uncomfortable and feeling a little guilty, Bryn nodded. "Pax….ok, walk me to my door."

"Thank you," He offered his arm again. "After I've check in on the King in the morning," he said as they wondered up the stairs toward her rooms. "I shall take you to this wonderful waterfall I know of…"

"Is the King recovering?" Bryn asked softly.

"It will take time…" Devon reluctantly announced as they paused at her door.

"I didn't, and don't want him dead." Bryn looked at the floor as it was easier than looking at Devon. "Good night, my lord." She turned to her door. "Thank you for a pleasant evening."

Devon watched her door close, and for the second evening in a row found himself on a side he was not use to, outside. "Good night Cariad."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Uncomfortable, in pain and racked now with hunger, Sarah lay on the bed trying to sleep. The sounds of her stomach would not allow her to achieve the goal. Dizzier than she ever remembered being she made her way to the water pump. Too weak to pump and cup her hands, she bent toward the pump and shakily placed her mouth in the path of the water flow. But her stomach was no longer accepting the water and she gagged as it came rushing back up with what was left in her stomach. She rinsed her mouth, and staggered back in the direction of the bed…. But didn't quiet make it, falling a few feet short of the bed she lay on the floor shivering as the room spinner into a dark abyss.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Jareth awoke feverishly deep into the night, the swirling in the dream orb was erratic and the colors seemed not nearly as vibrant but more violent. One hand reached absently to the orb as through dry lips he whispered a name, Sarah. His hand dropped before touching the crystal, as he sunk into the dark that now gathered about him. All about him gathered nightmarish creatures and beasts. Deeper and deeper he was pulled into the horrendous nightmare. Each time he tried to rouse himself he was yanked back into the terror. When the dawn arrived, he opened his eyes and called out weakly for his valet. Rondo was swiftly at his side, calling quickly for the healer. Ghillie Dhu seemed mystified by the unusual systems the King was exhibiting.

"I would call for the Baron to come," he advised the King's valet. "I wish to speak to him."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Devon was eating his breakfast discussing with Bryn the day ahead when the summons to the palace arrived. "Oh dear, this does not sound promising for our outing…." Devon said as he pulled on his cloak. "I'll be home as soon as I can, Cariad." He promised.

"Baron," Bryn grabbed his wrist as he was leaving the entry. "Would you do me the favor of asking after Sarah? I know we are not allowed physical contact, but… I worry over her…I'd like to know that she's…alright."

Devon looked at the hand on his wrist and was grateful for the contact even if it were on the other girls behalf. "I'll be happy to do that for you my dear."

Ghillie Dhu was still examining the King when the Baron arrived. Daisy and Della had arrived just ahead of the healer and were now standing guard in the hall. Devon paced the hall outside the King's chamber as he waited the healer's calling him into the room. Rondo peeped out the door and motioned the Baron to enter the chamber. "This is most unusual… I've never heard of anyone becoming feverish and hallucinatory after the poisons are out of the system…However I can find no other cause for the milady that is inconveniencing our King. I suggest total bed rest for the rest of today, and no stress." The old healer looked very concerned. "Would it be possible for me to inspect the bounds that were used?"

"I'm afraid not," Devon explained softly, not wishing to disturb the man in the bed. "He destroyed the building and they were in it. I'm sure they are a molten mess now."

"Pity," Ghillie Dhu bemoaned. "One should know and understand that which we are frail to." He looked at the King and sighed. "If only I knew more of these restraints that were used. His wounds are not healing as they should."

The Baron watched as the old healer moved to take a seat beside the King's bed to keep watch. He moved quietly out to the corridor outside the King's room. Closing the door he turned to take a few steps away, half way down the hall he stopped. Having remembered his promise to the mortal in his keeping he returned to where the two guards stood. He cleared his throat thoughtfully, "Della," he began tentatively. "I was wondering, if you could give me information on the Williams girl."

The Harpy snorted and looked at him with condescension; "What one mortal girl not enough for you, Baron?"

Devon chuckled, genially. "Actually it's for Miss Cystennin that I'm asking… she wants to be sure her friend is… alright." He placed on hand behind his back to strike a casual pose. "So as you were the one who delivered her to the tower, you'd be the best one to tell me how she's fairing…" Neither Della nor Devon noticed the look of concern that was painted on Daisy's face. She listened carefully to the conversation.

Della chortled, "I delivered her to the tower, in one piece…pierced, but on piece… after that she was not my problem, Baron."

"Shit," muttered the little Goblin woman, looking as if something had just struck her.

Devon shrugged, turned to Daisy who was beginning to look worried. "Daisy, is something amiss?"

"Could be, my Lord…." The little Goblin sent a passing footman to the guard house for reinforcements. "My Lord if we could prevail upon you… we may be in need of your help…" She didn't explain beyond that, awaiting the replacements to come. Once the two guards were in place at the door, Daisy lead the way out of the castle. She looked at Della worriedly. "When was the last time you actually saw the Williams' girl?"

"I don't know… two nights ago…why?" Della frowned, not liking being pulled off her station.

"Because I don't think anyone has checked on her….or… fed her…" Daisy fretted.

Devon slapped a hand to his head. "Good Goddess…we've all been so worried about the King…. And I was distracted with…oh damnation!" He looked at the tower. "I'll go up." He waved his hand but found his magic would not allow him to transport up to the tower room. "That's damn odd…" he commented.

"That's the protection spell," Daisy rolled her eyes. "The reasons only Harpies or a transformed Fae in bird form can enter the tower…Della, take me up." She held out her hands to the Harpy trustingly. Careful to keep her talon withdrawn, the Harpy lifted them both with ease to the window entry. Once Daisy was released from the Harpy's grip she turned to see the mortal lying on the stone floor looking very gray. "Get the Healer," She ordered as she rushed to where Sarah lay.

"What if she's faking;" Protested the Harpy guard, not trusting the mortal.

"She's not faking, birdie, she's dying….." Daisy shouted. "Now go get the healer or the King will have both our heads for letting his prisoner die." The Goblin didn't try to move the girl, but did grab the bedding to cover the naked creature on the floor.

A moment later Della was out the window, cawing an alert as she winged her way to the balcony that belonged to the king's private rooms. She landed with ease, and slipped into the room careful not to disturb the King. Moving smoothly she stopped behind the healer, bending down she whispered in his hear. "You are needed elsewhere." He looked up at her, but stood and followed her out to the balcony where she easily picked him up and carried him up to the tower's opening. Gently she placed him on his feet. "There," she pointed to where Daisy was kneeling.

"Bring the Baron up," Daisy suggested as she moved aside for the healer.

"People are going to think we are having a party up here." Della snapped as she winged down to bring the Baron back up to the enchanted tower.

Ghillie Dhu moved more swiftly than Daisy had ever seen the old one move. His gait was graceful and swift as a gazelle. He knelt down and looked at the ashen face of the mortal. "Bless my soul, a mortal girl…." He looked at Daisy questioningly. "Who is this creature?"

"She is called Sarah Williams… and she is the King's prisoner… it was she who instigated the attack on the King." Daisy explained

Ghillie Dhu looked toward the window where Della was entering holding Devon by one arm. "My Lord, would you help me move this girl to that cot there?"

Devon had not even bothered trying to smooth his jacket, he moved to where the girl lay on the floor, lifelessly. He gasped as he bent over her. "Good Goddess, Jareth is going to have a fit…." He complained, motioning the Healer and the Goblin aside he easily scooped up the girl and carried her covered body to the cot. "Who is in charge of the care of this prisoner?" he directed his question to Daisy.

Embarrassed the Goblin woman shrugged. "I don't think the King placed anyone in charge… we were more concerned with him at that moment, Baron…." She frowned. "He only directed Della to deliver her here…. After that he was so ill and exhausted… I'm afraid we all forgot the girl…"

Devon looked about the tower, seeing nothing but what had been there when Della had brought him there to teach him a lesson. "Has no one seen to… you mean she's not eaten since we brought her to this side?"

The Healer snapped his fingers and everyone looked his way. "You, Harpy," he commanded in a voice that booked no refusal. "Go fetch a cauldron of soup from the kitchens, and if any give you grief tell them the healer has ordered it." He turned to the Goblin woman. "You fetch me soapy water and a cloth." His eyes were on the Baron. "You come here, and answer my questions."

Devon had never felt fear in dealing with a healer, until now. "I'll do my best." He said as his steps drew him closer to the very angry healer. "What would you like to know, Ghillie Dhu?"

The healer was pleased with how quickly Daisy obeyed his command, and smiled at her as she brought a basin of water and placed it on the stand next to the bed. Ghillie Dhu soaked the clothe and wrung it out to bathe the girls face. "Who is this girl, Baron?"

Looking at Daisy, Devon repeated what Daisy had already told the healer. "She's called Sarah Williams… and she's the one who instigated the attack on Jareth…but you've been told that…."

Eyes the color of the autumn skies gazed at the Fae, unyieldingly. "You mean to tell me this child is one of the witches you claim captured the King?"

"Looks on this one are deceiving, Healer Ghillie Dhu." Devon became defensive. "She's the ring leader of the witches… and…" He paused.

Tilting his head to one side, the healer waited for the Fae to continue, but he would not without prodding. "Yes?"

"She's been here before…." Devon looked at Daisy for help in explaining to the Healer.

"Healer," Daisy said carefully. "This is Dann Shalkec," using the Goblin words for The Champion. "The one who…"

"This is the child who refused the King?" He looked down at the gray features of the frail being on the cot. "Daisy, this is no child…"

"Some time has passed," she reminded the old healer.

He moved the cloth that covered the girl, his eyes widened at the wounds on her person. "Who did this?" his voice was angry and disturbed. "Who mutilated this young woman?"

"I did," Della said returning with a cauldron of soup; "Upon the King's orders." There was no remorse in the Harpy's tone. She was stating a fact, nothing more.

Ghillie Dhu turned once more to look at the Fae Baron who had the good grace to appear embarrassed. "And you approved this behavior?"

"It was not a matter of approval or disapproval at that moment, Healer." Devon said defensively. "Jareth had been… captured and subjected to eleven hours of… cruelty and torment at the hands of three mortal witches… they declared war on him… not on the Kingdom but on him directly… and the affront had to be dealt with. This was his…idea." Devon knew his argument may have been accurate, but he also knew it sounded lame to the fellow Fae.

"The other two," the healer was now applying herbs to the girl who was convulsing every time he touched her. "Did he disfigure and maim them as well?"

"No," Devon said softly.

Each time the healer touched the girl she reacted, even in her unconscious state. Ghillie Dhu turned to Devon once more. "What else did he do to this child of Earth?"

Daisy answered. "This is not from the punishment," she chose her words with great care. "The girl can bear no touch save the King's. She has been this way since the night she ran the Labyrinth…. No one, except her parents, and brother...may have contact with her person… No one…but the King… all other touch causes her great pain."

"Poor child," lamented the healer. "She has suffered so at the hands of the Fae… and I doubt her suffering is coming to an end…." From his robe he withdrew a small vial, opening it he poured the contents into the girls mouth and watched as the potion brought her back from the brink of death. He motioned Della to bring the cauldron of soup. He ladled a small portion into a cup and placing his hand behind her pillow raised her. "Drink, Sarah Williams, drink this broth…"

Della crossed her arms. "I don't see what all the fuss is about…This girl is the King's sworn enemy…. So what if she dies?"

Devon winced at the harsh truth spoken by the Harpy. "There are a few minor problems with that, Della." He sighed. "You see, even though Jareth is the Goblin King, he's still subject to a few Fae Laws… He'd have been within his rights to demand the lives of his assailants, however the moment he chose to let them live he was subject to follow the laws of The Escheat in dealing with them. The three witches are Kithain, and must be treated as such."

Della growled, impatient with the entire conversation, and thinking it pointless. "Kithain or no, she plotted the King's death…"

"No," Devon corrected the Harpy. "The only one of the witches who wanted Jareth dead was the Greek… not this one, nor did the one I keep." He looked at Ghillie Dhu remorsefully. "Will she live?"

"Yes," the healer sighed as he continued to help the barely conscious girl take in the nourishment she'd been denied for days. "But she is in very poor condition…I want to move her to the infirmary…"

"Out of the question," Daisy snapped back into her role as the King's guard. "She is a prisoner…and it was the King's wish she be here…" She moved to where the healer was seated, arguing with the expertise of a diplomat. "Ghillie Dhu, the fact that this one is back in the kingdom is a very closely guarded secret for now… can you guarantee that it would remain so if she were to be allowed be nursed back to health in the infirmary?"

The Healer frowned, seeing her point, not liking it, but seeing it. "No, I cannot." He admitted.

Daisy drew herself up to her full height, "I take responsibility for this prisoner, Healer. I will see to it she is not allowed to fall through the cracks again. She will be given proper care, and meals…"

Della in the blink of an eye moved to the Goblin's side, a sneer on her angular features. "Why? Why should you take responsibility for this prisoner? She is nothing to us!"

Daisy blinked at the Harpy as if she didn't quite know her. "She is _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_." The Goblin guard stated with force. "She is the property of the Labyrinth…not just the King who rules it… or perhaps that was not explained to you by the Matron…." Daisy placed her hand on her hilt as she did whenever things became strained between her and the Harpy she'd been partnered with. "I do no more than any other Goblin would…" she looked at the Healer. "She will be seen to."

"_**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_?" Ghillie Dhu became reflective. "I had no idea, but I should have… I recall the last _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_. Let us hope this one fairs better." He rose to his feet and handed the remains of the cup of broth to Daisy. "See to it that she's not forgotten again, if you need my skills I will be available." He placed a hand on the Goblin's shoulder. "I will have some salves and herbs and potions for you to collect for her… come to the infirmary when you are able to." He gave Della a banal stare, "You may return me to the King." He commanded.

Della snorted, "Do I look like a delivery service?"

"Do it," Devon commanded quietly taking a seat in one of the chairs; he looked uneasily at the girl whose color was still not healthy. "When you've taken the healer back, return here, we need to have a strategy for the continued dealings with the witch." He leaned forward on his parted legs with a weary look on his face. "Go, Della."

Daisy looked down at the girl, her face was still ashen, but not as gray as when they'd found her. "This is my fault," she whispered once the Harpy had departed with the Healer. "I should have remembered her…."

"I didn't remember her either," Devon confessed bitterly. "And I have her… friend…" Worriedly he looked at the female Goblin. "We share the fault, you and I…and the King…"

Daisy shook her head, "His majesty is recovering…this is not his fault…"

"Daisy," Devon warned her with a darkening tone. "He was well enough to call for reports less than a day after the attack… Yes he was in bed, but he was aware enough to look after his kingdom… but he forgot this girl…. And I've a sneaking feeling that was on purpose."

"Can you blame him?" Daisy questioned as she watched the girl. "Think of what one has done to him….not just this attack, but the affront she … No… I will not blame him if he did put her to the back of his mind…" She looked about the tower. "It would have been different had we been able to house her in the dungeon like any other prisoner. The dungeon staff would have seen to it she was given nourishment."

"Could have, should have, would have…." Devon observed critically. "Spilt milk..."

"Aye, spilt milk;" Agreed the guard crossing her arms; keeping an eye on the opening watching for her partner's return.

Della swept into the room and folded her wings upon landing gracefully in one sweeping motions. "This looks like a conspiracy meeting." She observed coldly.

"It more or less is," Devon agreed being of the same mind. "For the good of the Kingdom we who rescued the King must be a conspiracy of three…" He pointed to the girl. "Jareth would not want her presence to be known, not just yet…I have no idea of what seeing her will do to whomever has had their memories shifted…Until the King is well enough to deal with her, we three must… I can not use magic to enter the tower...Nor to leave," he glared at the snickering Harpy. "Only a winged one can enter… and right now, that means you." He continued to look at the Harpy. "You will have to be the one who brings meals to her until the King can assign a winged Goblin."

"And should I refuse?" Della growled disagreeable.

"You can not," Daisy interjected. "Your matron took an oath for your entire breed….Like her or not, the girl is the King's possession…his slave…his chattel and you are foresworn to protect what belongs to the King, including her."

Arrogance and superiority shone in Harpy eyes as she regarded the Goblin. "Runt, sometimes you are a bit too smart for your own good."

Devon enjoyed the barbs being tossed; "For now, we three and the healer are the only ones who've seen the girl…. Let us keep it that way until the King presents her to the Kingdom after all she is his to deal with when all is said and done… for all I know he may just decide to let her rot here in this ivory and opal gilded cage." Rising he looked at Daisy. "As you are a commander in the royal guards I expect you'll have a way of fixing the schedules…."

"Who's going to tell the King?" Daisy asked cutting to the chase. "Someone has to."

Devon frowned, "I will."

"Oh let me," mocked the Harpy. "I can just image his…face."

Devon snapped at her, "Della, that's not funny…"

"It wasn't meant to be you prancing bag of hot air…" The Harpy snapped in return coarsely.

Placing her fingers in her lips the way she'd seen the King do, Daisy whistled sharply getting both to quiet down. "I suggest we all speak to him, and I suggest we do it soon."

Della shrugged, "Runt's right," she conceded.

"I hate the idea of disturbing him right now…he had a bad night." Devon contended softly.

"Hers was worse," Daisy observed and held up a hand to forestall any other comments. "I say we go to the King now… the girl will be alright for a short time. I need to make arrangements for the guards to shift in rotation. Birdie, you and I are going to be doing double duty here…and making reports to both the Baron here and the King." She motioned them both to the window. "Take the Baron down and then come for me... Come on! Move!"

"Bossy little runt," Della sniped as she flung an arm about the Baron unceremoniously. "You just love lording your rank over me, don't you runt?

"Move or be fricasseed you sorry excuse for a hen." Daisy shoved her toward the opening. When the pair was gone she took one long look at the girl in the cot over her shoulder. "Damn if history does not repeat…perhaps… this time we can change..." She stood in the opening and leapt into the waiting talons of the Harpy.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21. The King's conspirators**

It was quiet in the chamber of the King, too quiet. He opened his stormy mismatched eyes just in time to witness the Healer being carried off by the Harpy. A dull throbbing at his temple had been present since he'd been dragged into the nightmares. Even with the curtains drawn he felt as if there were far too much light pouring into his space. Turning his head his eyes drifted to the orb that had seemed to drawn no attention, he mused his own condition must have been far more interesting to the unknowing eyes of all who had visited him.

His lips were dry, and his throat felt painful, as painful as when the little witches had placed the restraining collar upon him. Frowning he reached his hand out, taking the orb off its pedestal. It was co lukewarm in his hands, not cold, but not as warm as it had been in the past. His touch seemed to cause a chain reaction and again he was faced with nightmarish creatures. He dropped the orb quickly, drawing another orb with difficulty from the air. Looking into it's depths he commanded; "Sarah," expecting to see the girl. Instead he was seeing a flurry of reactions to the crumpled creature on the stone floor of the tower room. He watched slightly incoherently not clear on what was going on. He watched as the Baron picked the fallen girl up off the floor, placing her on the cot. He listened to the conversations, and heard the explanations that were given. Still the throbbing in his temples beat on and on, as he lowered the orb.

A little while later, when the healer returned to the King's chamber he found the man lying in the bed with eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling. Ghillie Dhu moved toward the bed, and the hand of the king not holding a crystal orb rose up and motioned the healer to take a seat at the far side of the room. Quietly the old man did so. Jareth then looked into the orb again and heard the three discussing what was to be done next.

_**Daisy looked down at the girl, her face was still ashen, but not as gray as when they'd found her. "This is my fault," she whispered once the Harpy had departed with the Healer. "I should have remembered her…."**_

_**"I didn't remember her either," Devon confessed bitterly. "And I have her… friend…" Worriedly he looked at the female Goblin. "We share the fault, you and I…and the King…"**_

_**Daisy shook her head, "His majesty is recovering…this is not his fault…"**_

_**"Daisy," Devon warned her with a darkening tone. "He was well enough to call for reports less than a day after the attack… Yes he was in bed, but he was aware enough to look after his kingdom… but he forgot this girl…. And I've a sneaking feeling that was on purpose."**_

_**"Can you blame him?" Daisy questioned as she watched the girl. "Think of what one has done to him….not just this attack, but the affront she … No… I will not blame him if he did put her to the back of his mind…" She looked about the tower. "It would have been different had we been able to house her in the dungeon like any other prisoner. The dungeon staff would have seen to it she was given nourishment."**_

_**"Could have, should have, would have…." Devon observed critically. "Spilt milk..."**_

_**"Aye, spilt milk;" Agreed the guard crossing her arms; keeping an eye on the opening watching for her partner's return.**_

_**Della swept into the room and folded her wings upon landing gracefully in one sweeping motions. "This looks like a conspiracy meeting." She observed coldly.**_

_**"It more or less is," Devon agreed being of the same mind. "For the good of the Kingdom we who rescued the King must be a conspiracy of three…" He pointed to the girl. "Jareth would not want her presence to be known, not just yet…I have no idea of what seeing her will do to whomever has had their memories shifted…Until the King is well enough to deal with her, we three must… I can not use magic to enter the tower...Nor to leave," he glared at the snickering Harpy. "Only a winged one can enter… and right now, that means you." He continued to look at the Harpy. "You will have to be the one who brings meals to her until the King can assign a winged Goblin."**_

_**"And should I refuse?" Della growled disagreeable.**_

_**"You can not," Daisy interjected. "Your matron took an oath for your entire breed….Like her or not, the girl is the King's possession…his slave…his chattel and you are foresworn to protect what belongs to the King, including her."**_

_**Arrogance and superiority shone in Harpy eyes as she regarded the Goblin. "Runt, sometimes you are a bit too smart for your own good."**_

_**Devon enjoyed the barbs being tossed; "For now, we three and the healer are the only ones who've seen the girl…. Let us keep it that way until the King presents her to the Kingdom after all she is his to deal with when all is said and done… for all I know he may just decide to let her rot here in this ivory and opal gilded cage." Rising he looked at Daisy. "As you are a commander in the royal guards I expect you'll have a way of fixing the schedules…."**_

_**"Who's going to tell the King?" Daisy asked cutting to the chase. "Someone has to."**_

_**Devon frowned, "I will."**_

_**"Oh let me," mocked the Harpy. "I can just image his…face."**_

_**Devon snapped at her, "Della, that's not funny…"**_

_**"It wasn't meant to be you prancing bag of hot air…" The Harpy snapped **__**in return coarsely.**_

_**Placing her fingers in her lips the way she'd seen the King do, Daisy whistled sharply getting both to quiet down. "I suggest we all speak to him, and I suggest we do it soon." **_

_**Della shrugged, "Runt's right," she conceded. **_

_**"I hate the idea of disturbing him right now…he had a bad night." Devon contended softly.**_

_**"Hers was worse," Daisy observed and held up a hand to forestall any other comments. "I say we go to the King now… the girl will be alright for a short time. I need to make arrangements for the guards to shift in rotation. Birdie, you and I are going to be doing double duty here…and making reports to both the Baron here and the King." She motioned them both to the window. "Take the Baron down and then come for me... Come on! Move!"**_

_**"Bossy little runt," Della sniped as she flung an arm about the Baron unceremoniously. "You just love lording your rank over me, don't you runt?**_

_**"Move or be fricasseed you sorry excuse for a hen." Daisy shoved her toward the opening. When the pair was gone she took one long look at the girl in the cot over her shoulder. "Damn if history does not repeat…perhaps… this time we can change..." She stood in the opening and leapt into the waiting talons of the Harpy. **_

The King lowered the orb once more and waited, he didn't have long to wait. He looked over at the Healer, not ready to speak to him until he'd dealt with the three self proclaimed King's conspirators. He was able to raise himself up on the pillows that were there to brace his back. The chamber door opened, and three individuals marched in. One Harpy looking haughty one Goblin looking contrite and one Fae looking very vexed; Jareth raised his hand to bid them to come closer.

Before the King or the Baron could speak, Daisy moved swiftly forward, bent her knee and lowered her head. "Sire, I have failed you… do to my stupidity your prisoner nearly died…"

Jareth watched as his cousin rushed forward, not about to allow the Goblin to take the heat. "That's not exactly true…it's as much my fault as hers….we were so concerned with you that we forgot all about the girl in the tower…" Devon stated standing beside the bent and kneeling female Goblin.

Ghillie Dhu watched the king with interest, wondering what his reactions would be to the confession, and the confessors.

Jareth the Goblin King turned and looked at the Harpy who was standing apart from the contrite pair. "And what say you, Harpy?" He asked in a raspy voice.

"Not my problem," she sauntered forward with a casual gait, totally unaffected and unashamed. "I did what I was told to do, no more, no less."

Amused that the Harpy did not feel any responsibility, nor did she feel guilt, Jareth snickered. "Don't change Della, not ever." He turned his attentions to the pair willing to take blame, motioning the healer to come forward. "Will the… girl… live?"

Ghillie Dhu crossed his arms over his chest, "The _**young woman**_, while in very poor condition will live…"

Jareth glared at the healer, not partial to having his words redirected. "You may tend to her medical needs… with exception to the wounds that have been given her on my direction." He looked at Devon and Daisy. "Who remembered the girl?"

Daisy looked at Devon, who shamefaced whispered. "Miss Cystennin."

"Who?" The King asked racking his brain for the face that went with that so Welsh name.

"The little red haired witch you… gave to me…" Devon said with a deep swallow. "She asked me to see how the girl was fairing…."

"I see," Jareth's face was worn, and the frown didn't set well with his handsome features.

Devon sighed deeply, "Cousin I take the responsibility…"

Jareth shook his head, "No,"

Daisy squared her shoulders, "I sire, take…"

"NO," Jareth said even stronger. "No, you won't Daisy… if anyone is at fault here its Sarah Williams…"

Ghillie Dhu gasped in shock and anger. "You would blame the victim…."

"Victim my ass!" Snapped the bedridden King; "Had she not declared this war, I would never have been left in a condition where I could not…" He growled, stopped speaking to regain his composure. "I will not have my guards or my cousin accepting the blame for this." He looked at the two. "You remembered her, and acted quickly to prevent her escaping me even by means of death. For that I am grateful." He raised the crystal orb he'd been watching them in. "You were wrong, there are more than just the four of you who know the girl is here…. You forgot Joachim…. He was in the dungeon with us…"

Daisy shifted uncomfortably at the mention of who knew the girl was there. "Sire… there may… be more…"

Jareth, Devon and the healer all looked at the Goblin guard; her partner stared off in space. Jareth seeing the noncommittal reaction called the Harpy on it. "Della, is the Matron… aware?"

"She may have made some mention…." Della stalled.

"If the matron knows, the flock knows," Jareth deliberated aloud. "Who else knows…." He looked at Daisy. "Who else knows?"

"A better question would be who does not," Daisy sidestepped the issue.

The dawning of understanding struck the king, he leaned forward. "The three traitors don't know…and don't remember…Nor do any of the Fae who were mind shifted…"

"That's about the size of it," Daisy admitted softly.

Devon raised a brow, "Jareth, how many Fae did you… mind shift?"

"Every last one who was present in the Kingdom during the girls Run in the Labyrinth, including our dear Rosalind." Jareth said coldly. "Anyone who could have made a report to the High King or the Fae court…." He turned to the Healer. "Ghillie Dhu, is there a potion I can take that will give me the stamina I need to move about the kingdom? I've a feeling that we are under a watchful eye… and my being bedridden at this time is not something I wish to explain. Recovering from a hangover can not cover as much time as my recovering needs…"

The old man pulled on his long white beard, "I recall an elixir that was once used…" his face was lined with the wrinkles of his age. "However it does have draw backs…it may be used once…"

"Brew it," ordered the King.

The old healer paused. "And the young woman, what do you intend to do about her?"

"She's my business," Jareth stated with a nasty tone lacing his words. "What I do about her does not concern you."

"As you say," the old one bowed and swept from the room.

"Pompous… if he were not the finest healer…I'd have sent him packing back to Oberon in a heart beat," vowed the disgruntled king. He turned to Daisy. "The Goblins?"

"Hold to their oaths," she assured him.

He glared at Della, "And the Harpies?"

"Couldn't care less…" she lied.

"Della," Jareth snapped his fingers to bring her to attention. "What is the Matron's stance on the issue of Sarah Williams?"

The Harpy sneered. "Matron says, she is_** Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_, the price of peace with the above, whether she knows it or not." Della paraphrased the Matron's words. "The flock will protect the King and his bonded slave; as we have sworn to do." She guardedly added; "Where we agree with the King or not."

Jareth looked at the three, two willing participants and one ruffled feathered Harpy. "I'm sure the kingdom will be a buzz about the woman in the tower soon enough. We need to cover our tracks…. There must be no mention of the attack on my person when I bring the girl forth for the Kingdom to catch a glimpse of."

"You intend to display your…trophy?" Devon asked taking a seat on his cousin's bed. "Is that wise?"

"Once she's had some proper training," Jareth answered with a dark almost menacing glint in his stormy eyes. "Do you not wish to display your little trophy, cousin?"

"No," Devon admitted quickly. "Right now I want to keep the young lady under lock and key."

"How goes your…indoctrination of the little witch?" Asked the King. "Have you made any…headway with her?"

"I'm treating her as my guest," Devon said feeling defensive.

"You mean to tell me you have not…"

"No," snapped the Baron harshly. "Nor will I until she is… willing."

Della tossed back her head a laughed. "The Lord Devon, Baron of the Goblin Kingdom showing signs of being a gentleman… and to a mortal." Her icy words were laced with scorn. "Now I've heard everything."

Daisy, still on her bent knee looked at Della with sorrowfulness. Knowing a Harpy could not begin to understand the depths of commitment the Baron was showing. Daisy understood more about the two Fae, and the changes in them due to living in the land of the Labyrinth for so long. She looked at the King, gently she brought him back to the subject at hand. "Sire, the girl in the tower?"

Jareth accepted the shift and turned his attention from teasing his cousin to the Goblin who was keeping things more on tact. "Yes, the girl…Daisy, you were willing in the tower to take responsibility for her… are you still willing?" When the guard nodded, he continued. "I will then have you and this one," he pointed to Della; "Take care of the girl, nurse her back to relative health. Force feed the bitch if need be, but don't let her die of neglect."

Della protested, "I don't see that as such a calamitous event, my King."

"What you see or don't see is of no consequence, Harpy… you've been given your orders. Now go." He motioned Devon to stay put while the guards made their exits. He looked his cousin in the eye. "I am not ready for my possessing the girl to be made common knowledge, not just yet."

Devon nodded; turning away he took notice of the framed ink-on-canvas artwork on the wall. "Where did that come from? I don't remember that piece, and I was under the impression I knew all your art work in here since you renovated."

"Spoils of war," Jareth gave a haughty smile to the memory of ordering Daisy to take it off the wall in a room Sarah used Above. He settled into the pillows, "I take such comfort from my plunder."

Turning to look at the King, Devon cocked a brow; "Ah, but will you plunder your…spoils?"

"Will you?" Jareth questioned just as transparently.

The Baron lounged back and smiled cryptically. "I've already informed Miss Cystennin that I intend to bed her. I've made no secret of my intentions."

"Blatant honesty. What a novel tool in wooing a woman…" Jareth teased. "I don't think I shall bother…." He closed his eyes thinking of the many ways he planned on exacting his pound of flesh from the mortal. "I think I'll just rely on brute force." The King chuckled as some evil thought crossed his mind. "However, business before pleasure, I will need you here at the palace for the remainder of this week, leave your little plaything under lock and key."

"Jareth," Devon protested. "I had plans."

"Cancel them;" Stated the King frostily.

Devon fell back on his cousin's bed and groaned. "There goes a lovely picnic."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Robert and Errol felt like spare tires trying to lend a hand as the women packed up. The belongings of the two girls were crated into boxes by loving hands while the men took Toby for a long walk. Linda looked about the room and frowned. "Karen, that ink drawing Li Po did for Sarah is missing."

Karen looked about; "You're right…It should be right here…Robert hung it for her, I remember that clear as day…. Linda who would take a thing like that? I mean outside of being pretty…it really didn't have much value. Is anything else missing?"

Joanna Cystennin looked around the room. "A lot of things are missing, things that most would not consider valuable, or would even take notice of… Bryn kept a box of crystals. I know because I was with her when she packed them and I don't see them anywhere." She moved to the book shelf, and frowned. "Some of Bryn's folk lore books are gone as well." She looked at Linda with confusion. "Who would want to steal a book on fairies?"

Hearing the other mother's question, Linda opened the drawer in the night stand next to her daughter's bed. It was empty, the book that Linda knew Sarah kept under lock and key was gone. Linda looked at Karen, "What was it Toby kept saying last night?"

Jeremy answered from where he was leaning on the door frame. "He said someone had taken Sarah and Bryn away…someone not of this world."

Karen looked on the verge of tears; "Poor boy, missing his sister so, he just can not accept that she's…."

Jeremy was looking at Linda his eyes darkening with an unspoken warning. "He also said he was going to get them back." He said quietly.

Joanna moved forward, "Toby said not of this world?" Turning to Linda she asked. "Isn't that an odd way for a child of five to speak?"

"He's an odd child," Linda said before Karen could protest, she added; "He's always be a bit unusual… what my mother calls…fay anam. … Fairy souled…" The actress pondered for a moment. "But to say not of this world, Karen even I think that's peculiar."

"I'd keep an eye on him were I you." Warned Joanna fighting the urge to bolt from the room; "I don't think we've heard the last of any of this."

Linda walked over to Jeremy, "I want to know everything you two said to one another." She demanded softly.

"Not here," Jeremy mouthed, looking over her shoulder at Karen. "Later."

Linda looked at Karen and nodded, then went on with the task of clearing things up. Joanna was making notes of the items she'd found to be missing from her daughter's belongings. Karen found nothing missing of Sarah's, but was not aware of the items Linda had been sending to her daughter. Linda was making notes of her own, not sure who she'd ask for answers.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Robert and Errol sat in the sun, pulling their jackets a bit tighter for a chill had settled in. Toby was tossing stones into the little pond that was part of the campus's grounds. He kept muttering to himself, and the men let him. The men in mourning were not aware if the watchful eyes that were focused on the boy.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Hugging Karen one more time before she got into the car, Linda promised that both she and Jeremy would make it to the house for thanksgiving and yes, they needed to stay strong together right now. She leaned in the window of the back seat, was going to kiss the boy good bye when she noticed how he kept staring at Jeremy. "Toby, if you need us…for any reason…" Toby looked at his sister's mother, nodded and leaned up to kiss her on the cheek. As he did he whispered to her to be careful. Linda pulled back from the window and looked at the boy, for a moment he looked…strange, and not of this earth. She blinked and in that time what ever she'd seen had disappeared.

Errol and Joanna had given both Karen and Linda their address and phone number. Linda waved both cars off before turning to Jeremy who pointed to his car. She followed him and once they were on the road she turned to him. "Okay, we're off the campus… I don't know why you felt you could not speak there…"

"Linda, think about the things that are missing…the crystals, the books, candles, incense….Hell that Ink thing Li Po did… all of them are things that have mystical connections… and if you had been looking at some of the building markings like I was, you would not want to have this conversation there either." He snapped with annoyance, and then quickly apologized.

Placing a hand on his sleeve, Linda soothed him. "Its okay baby, we're all on edge…"

"Toby is right." Jeremy said pulling the car over to the side of the highway. He looked haggard and worried, and was not thinking about his appearance. "Toby was right."

"Right about what?" Linda gasped.

The man who had been her partner on stage and screen looked at her with more guilt than she'd ever seen on his face. "I think he's right, someone took the girls away…from here… from this world…." He took hold of her hands. "I fear some of our answers lie where they… were last. That blasted asylum the police told us about."

"But I don't know where that asylum is…"Linda began, and then halted. "Do you?"

Jeremy pulled the car back on the highway, and turned at the first crossover he found. "I asked and yes, I have directions…."

Linda looked at the road ahead, as they passed the college once more. "Why didn't you say anything? Don't you think you should have said something to Robert?"

"Oh right, I'm supposed to say to Robert, hey I think the kid is on to something!" the handsome actor made his point loudly and unsympathetically. "I can just see old Robert's face on that one…NO, no Linda. This is not something we can discuss with them, right now… and most assuredly not on that campus…in fact I say that while we investigate at the asylum, we not say a word about our suspicions…"

"What are our suspicions?" she spread her hands out before her. "Give me a clue as to what you're thinking…."

"Darling," he said boldly. "Do you remember that little dinner we had with your mum about two years ago, you were telling her about Sarah's dreamless state?"

The actress remembered very well, it was not something she was likely to forget. "Mom said Sarah was the victim of a … Fae prank. That a dream stealing creature had attacked her for revenge…." Speaking the words aloud did two things, made them sound crazier than they had originally; nevertheless it also gave them validity. She looked at Jeremy, "I see why you didn't want to discuss this with Robert…it sounds nuts."

"It would be too, if I didn't know better." Jeremy looked at Linda with remorse. "I'm not sure, but I may have brought this on you…."

"Don't talk like that," begged the woman. "We've been all through this. My leaving Robert was not your fault…"

"Linda, you'd have stuck it out had I not appeared in your life." The words were spoken in a crisp English accent. "You'd have played the wife and mother to the hilt, and without me to show you what you were missing, you might even have believed yourself happy and fulfilled." He reached out one hand, drew hers to his lips. "I can even forgive you refusing to marry me, because of what my presence has done to your life, my darling." Lightly he placed his lips to her fingers. "We make magic you and I for good reason, and you know it Linda… you are going to have to acknowledge and make a clean breast of it sooner or later, why not now?"

"Yes, I know you're different…" She said enjoying the jolt of electricity that was always present when he touched her. "I've known all along…"

Jeremy smiled as he drove. "That was not so hard, now was it… so say the rest and it will be out in the open."

"You beguiled me," she whispered dreamily. "And I allowed you to."

"Finish it," he commanded. "Say it all."

"I know who and what you are," She put her head on his shoulder, "You are _**Jeremy **__**Danann Eden, **_and you are…Kathrin." She swallowed the tears that were threatening to break free.

Jeremy turned slightly and kissed her forehead as he'd done often enough. "That which binds us, will never set us free." He warned. "You don't have to marry me, but you'll never be loved by another, Linda… you are mine. We are bound to each other as surely as if we'd exchanged vows in a church. And because of it, we may have endangered your daughter."

Huddling to him, more for strength than for comfort, Linda groaned. "We've been so careful!"

"Have we love?" He asked softly, not truly believing that they had. "Think of all we've done with Sarah… of the gifts we've given her over the years…" He was mentally tallying up what all they'd given to Sarah over the years. "Had I the least idea that a Fae would go after your daughter…."

"One went after me," she reminded him quietly.

"That does not count, not entirely…I'm only part Fae… Kathrin I may be, but I live on the mundane Plane." He objected. "I didn't use Fae tricks to get to you…not that I wouldn't have… I just didn't need to… your soul was already searching for me..."

"Alright, so we're both bad…" She sighed. "I left a husband and young daughter for the pleasures…and you…"

"I beguiled you….knowing you were already married… if I had just left it at an affair…loved you and left you behind, but no…I could not do even that." He mumbled softly, and then placed his hand on her knee. "Hell, I'd do it again."

Blushing Linda looked away. "Look, isn't that the place?" she pointed to a gate up the road; "Looks like someone's cleaning house."

"I smell a rat." Jeremy pulled his car into the long drive, headed toward the building that seemed to be getting cleared out.

"So do I, a big Greek rat," Linda was glaring at the man directing men carrying items out of the house. "That's the trunk of costumes I sent Sarah. " She announced as she leapt from Jeremy's car. "Care to tell me what you're doing with it?" she glared at Ari.

Snake looked at the other man and whispered some warning to him. Ari moved forward looking at the actress with no hint of remorse. "Sarah was loaning the costumes to us so we could make a music video…I'll be happy to return your property to you, Miss Williams." His sarcasm was brutal and ruthless. His eyes raked over the actress with no consideration for her companion nor sympathy for her loss. "Then again perhaps you'd like to take Sarah's place…." He suggested salaciously.

Jeremy slammed his door, "_**Malakas**_," his voice had gone very deep, powerful and dangerous. "Show respect oryou'll be meeting your ancestors quicker than you intended."

Ari looked at the man as if seeing him for the first time, and there was fear in Ari's eyes. "My apologies, Miss Williams," he said if not contritely, swiftly.

Snake moved forward, "Miss Williams, perhaps if you and your…companion would step inside, we can answer what questions you may have."

"This is where my daughter died?" Linda frowned.

Ari pointed to the ruins of a building, still smoldering and belching out black smoke. "There." He said impassively in a monotone drone.

Snake shot him a look that even Ari could not ignore. "Please, come into the house…and we'll talk," he repeated in a consolatory manner. "I'm sure you have many questions."

Jeremy placed his arm about Linda, who could not stop staring at the pillar of smoke. "Linda, don't look." He turned her, "That's not them." He said with conviction. "That's not them."

Snake and Ari exchanged glances, troubled glances. The man and woman entered the house where things were being removed. Snake directed them into a large sitting room, and took a seat with them. Ari, trying to look intimidating, was standing at the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest. Snake looked at the woman and asked carefully. "What do you want to know?"

"What was my daughter into?"

"I'm not sure I understand the question," the biker said carefully. "If you're asking if she was on drugs…then no… Sarah and Bryn didn't do drugs, ever."

"No," Linda said coldly. "I know Sarah didn't do drugs…hell, she hated the meds she had to take for her condition…." She leaned forward, her eyes burning like coals. "I am asking what the hell she was into…"

"Magic," Ari supplied the answer cold and stony. "Sarah, Bryn and Lilith were into magic, Goddess worship and witchcraft." He seemed suddenly resentful. "And Lilith is paying the price. The girl was driven mad by whatever she witnessed here that night…." He lowered his arms to his sides, "I blame Sarah for that and for all of this…"

"Easy to blame someone not here to defend themselves," Jeremy growled dangerously. "You are older than the girls… why didn't you stop them?"

"Stop them?" the young Greek went wild. "Try stopping an earth quake, or a volcano…Stop them."

Snake interjected a thought. "They were trying to find a way to redeem Sarah's lost dreams… Bryn told me, they thought they had a ritual that would… help." His voice was reasonable and they all looked at him. "They had been following the year and a day path…studying, practicing, learning all the rites and everything seemed…normal." He explained to the mother who was now looking at him for answers. "Bryn said that she felt that Lilith was beginning to obsess not about helping Sarah but about Sarah herself, and was giving her information that she was not sharing with the circle… I think Lilith got some old books that she shouldn't have."

"Who was teaching them?" Linda asked softly, knowingly.

"No one," Snake said with regret. "Bryn's family is Ban Drui; you do know what that means don't you?"

Linda turned to Jeremy who answered. "They are Welsh descendants of Druistic practitioners."

Nodding Snake turned to look at Ari who was glaring at him, "I tried to tell you, but you were obsessed with Lilith, and would not, or could not hear what I was telling you." He looked back at Linda. "Bryn said that as she and Sarah both came from Celtic roots, their partnering was a natural thing. Lilith is Greek, like Ari and I… and the magic is not as natural a thing to us… I mean we know it's there and we respect it, but…"

"Bryn and Sarah were the focal points." Linda finished for him, with a groan. "I should have taken her to the Gruagach'."

When both the young Greek men looked at the mother in anguish, Jeremy said with authority, "Gruagach' is an old Gaelic word, in the clans the Gruagach' was a seer, and wise woman… one who understood magic and the unseen world."

Linda looked at Jeremy, "I had no idea she was… I mean she never said a word."

"Like mother like daughter," he consoled. "It's in her blood… your own mother practices Goddess worship. Did you really think the girl would not follow the natural path?" He stroked back the hair that was falling into Linda's eyes.

Linda looked at Snake, "I want to see Sarah's room." She stood up. "I want to see it right now."

Ari shook his head, "There's nothing up there we cleared it out."

Jeremy didn't like the Greek young man, doubted anything in this life would ever give him reason to. "Did you find a framed ink on canvas art piece?"

"No," Ari said. "Not up there."

Snake looked at Linda, "I remember Sarah bringing a framed ink drawing… A dragon and a crane," he looked at Ari. "It should be there…on the wall across from her bed. Hell man," he stood up quickly when Ari shook his head. "I'm the one who hung it for her…it's got to be up there!"

"Well it's not." Ari snapped.

Jeremy stood up and turned to Snake. "Take me up there." They moved past Ari who at first didn't appear to wish to move, but stepped aside to allow them to pass. When they were in the hall out side the room that had been Sarah's, Jeremy motioned for the man with him to stand aside while he entered the room. Closing his eyes, letting his inner senses surge forward, Jeremy saw what was unseen. He saw the impressions left by the energy markers of beings not of this plane. Opening his eyes, he moved swiftly from the room as if being chased by some invisible force. He didn't even stop to speak to the man in the hall waiting for him. He moved down the stairs at a clip. "Linda, we must go, now…" He held his hand out to her, practically dragging her out of the house with urgency. He looked at the Greek men, before stepping into his car. "Salt the grounds." He warned darkly. "We'll be in touch with you….to tell you what to do with the costumes…" he strapped himself into the driver's seat, gunned the engine and drove as quickly as he could off the grounds. Once he was at what felt like a safe distance he pulled off the road and looked at Linda. He said one word. "Goblins," Linda roared in frustration. It was a sound that filtered long and far away.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Devon and Jareth both looked up at the disturbance in the fabric of that which protected the FairyLands from the mortal and mundane. Jareth's smile was a little to sinister for Devon's liking. He whispered, "Jareth, who ever just cried out, don't you fear Oberon hearing her?"

"Mortals cry out all the time, cousin. I doubt the High King will bother himself with one more." The Goblin King turned his attentions to the scrolls his cousin had fetched for his attention. "These are done," He shoved them aside. "The healer will be back soon with my elixir, I suggest you see to our afternoon schedule… and perhaps make dinner plans with Rosalind, she's always good for the spectacle.

Devon rose to his feet, gathered up the scrolls and bowed; "As you wish, sire. Dinner in the state dinning hall; whom do you wish to be in attendance?"

Leaning back, feeling fatigued, the King waved him off. "You see to the details, I'm too tired." Closing his eyes, Jareth wore an ominous smile. "Just make it a showy affair."

"As you wish," replied one of the King's conspirators.

Jareth listen, and waited until the Baron had strolled unhurriedly out of the bedchamber. He was alone, opened his eyes and picked up the orb he'd placed under his blanket. The orb was filled with dark fog, and strange colors. "Dream you nightmares, but you won't die, not yet… you won't die." He growled darkly.

"What is that?" A voice full of authorization demanded. Jareth turned, unhappy at finding himself being watched by the all seeing eyes of Ghillie Dhu. For years he'd suspected that the old healer was a spy from the High Courts. However as nothing had been reported to the High King, he could not confirm his suspicions. Now the gray sky eyes glared at the King. "Boy I have asked you a question, what is that?"

With a teasing smile, Jareth watched his face, while he spun the shining crystal around in his fingers."A crystal, nothing more… Except that if you look into it ... it will show you your dreams."

Ghillie Dhu moved forward, eyes glaring, nostrils flaring and fury cloaking him. "What have you done?"

Just for a moment, Jareth had flinched before he snorted, and tossed his mane of blond hair. "Where's my elixir, Healer… The Kingdom has needs, and they are more important than a toy." He placed the orb back on its stand, snapped fingers at the old man and waited.

Ghillie Dhu, being under an oath of allegiance, handed the vial to the King. "You are tampering with things beyond your kin, Jareth."

Downing the contents of the vial, the Goblin King closed his eyes and awaited the results. Feeling the energy he whispered. "Semper vive, live forever…"

The healer watched in silence.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22. Ripples in the pond**

_**Once he was at what felt like a safe distance Jeremy pulled off the road and looked at Linda saying one word. "Goblins," Linda roared in frustration. It was a sound that filtered long and far away:**_

Oberon was seated alone by the pond at the base of one of the many lovely waterfalls that graced the grounds of his island home. For days now he'd been troubled, and not entirely sure by what. His Queen had witness so many of these moods over the years that she just let him go off on his own to sort things through. More often than not he'd end up at this lovely enchanted pool, with it cool waters and gentle mists and soft green grass. Most of the court knew this to be a private spot reserved for the King and so they stayed at a distance.

The High King had been troubled by thoughts since the advent of the Samhain feast. Jareth had seemed unusually out of sorts, and Tanya following him like a love-sick puppy had not helped. Still ever since the lad had taken up the crown and was wearing it seriously, things had not seemed…peaceable. Dark moods were a thing the High King understood…all too well. He himself had been and was still subject to them, and was not surprised that one of his children was as temperamental as he. What troubled him was this time he could not trace a cause to Jareth's behavior. In the past he was always aware of what had triggered the temperament, but not this time.

Giving the Goblin Throne to Jareth had not been an easy decision for the High King. Not that Jareth was not entitled; his lineage gave him entitlement. It was more a question of maturity, something Oberon was not sure Jareth had developed when he'd given him the Goblin Kingdom to rule. He was spoiled, as a good many Fae Royalty and Nobility were, and had whined about being given the worst of all the realms. Unfortunately he was not far off the mark. Several other Royals had refused the Goblin Kingdom… few Fae Kings stayed on that throne for more than a century. Oberon had more or less used it as a testing ground, planning on moving Jareth to a more appropriate station when the time came. However the boy was stubborn, and had never requested to be moved. Oh he'd complained, and he'd whined, but he had not actually requested being moved.

Oberon smiled, of all his children, he was fondest of Jareth. Of all his children, and there were many, Jareth was closest to him in temperament and spirit if not in physical attributes. There had been a time, long ago when Fae were as prolific as mortals when families had been large and plentiful. Then had come the dark days, and the gift of children had become rarer. Few wished to recall those days, and of the many lives lost. Few wished to acknowledge that perhaps their own arrogance had played a part in the disease that had struck them. It was found that many of the males had been rendered sterile as well as the females of their ilk. For some reason male Royals had seemed exempt from that malady. If anything, they were even more virile, and developed a randy taste for females of other species. His own father had been known to spread his seed in grounds other than Fae. For this reason it was often overlooked by Fae wives when a male went momentarily astray. So few females seemed able to conceive, often a male would seek a female outside the Fae community, and use her as a surrogate to give him a child. Those children and sometimes their mothers were brought into the Fae community, to freshen the bloodlines. More often then not, if the female was mortal she would choose to accompany her child into the FairyLands, other species were not quite as maternal. Over time it was now possible to know which of the families were able to produce heirs, and Nobles and Royals married according to those lines. Oberon had seen his own father use his sister, Donella, as bait to lure able bodied males into the growing clan. He had not approved, nor had he rebuked, he had merely accepted.

The wars that had broken out during his youth had taught the Fae that they too had mortality. Oberon had seen his father, and his uncles die in battles over little more than breathing and breeding spaces. He himself had suffered scares until he'd found a way to unit the FairyLands and all the battling Fae Clans. He has also brought under control other ethereal nations. Elves, dwarfs, gnomes, and even the Goblins, under Oberon they had to be united. He had placed Kings and governors of Fae Royal blood on their thrones. Uniting once and for all the Underground. All this he had done for his people, for his family… and now he worried that it may not have been enough.

"You seem troubled," a voice broke his reverie.

Oberon looked toward the direction the voice had come and found Donelle, his sister, watching him. "I am." He motioned her to come and join him on the patch of thick grass. "What brings thee to my isle?"

"I've received word that my son has rejected yet another Fae noblewoman, and her father has issued a complaint." Donelle stated calmly.

"Devon is in no rush to marry, it would seem." Oberon observed quietly.

"Devon should not have been so rude." The mother of the Baron replied. "He told the father of the girl he'd be happy to try her out in his bed…but would make no promise of marrying her."

Oberon had always enjoyed his sister's company. She was the very picture of Fae perfection…not the perfection that mortals thought of, but that which old Fae families thought of. She was not very tall, coming only to her brother's shoulder and she was not overly slender. She was a woman with a healthy figure, and delightful curves. Womanly, her father had described her. Her eyes were more blue than gray, and her long dark hair was worn cascading down her back. Donelle's voice was softly accented from all her years walking the Celtic soil before she settled down to an estate in a FairyLand Kingdom. She had not asked for much of anything once the man her father had saddled her with had died. And Oberon had looked the other way when she'd taken a lover and given birth to Devon.

"Of all my children, Devon is my favorite," she confessed softly. "Unfortunately the boy knows it. I was hopping to prevail upon you, my brother and our High King to talk some sense into the lad… Ever since he went off to live full time in the Goblin Kingdome, he's been…" She paused, at a loss for words.

"Devon feels a certain amount of protectiveness for his cousin," Oberon observed quietly. "He is the reason that Jareth has made an effort to attend court functions and events."

"My son can be very responsible." Motherly pride was in her gentle voice. "He's a good and loyal subject."

Oberon had to agree, the young Fae Lord was a good and loyal subject. "I for one was very pleased when he chose to make a home for himself in the Goblin Realm."

Donelle didn't share his pleasure. "I can not say I share this feeling with you."

The High King shrugged and held his hand out to his sister. "Would you have had me refuse him, give him orders as our father gave to you, sister?" Her darkened face told him she would not. "I will not force any of the Royals to marry. Those who wish to accept the offers and advances made upon them are free to… I will not force my sons or yours to take wives they can not love. You know all about not being able to love the person you are bonded to how it can make one look elsewhere…"

"And what is your excuse, Oberon?" She chided gently. "I know for a fact that you love your wife and Queen…. That there is great passion betwixt you, and children to show for it… why then do you… wonder into other beds?"

"Lack of discipline," the High King sighed. "Bad habits that is now impossible to break." He raised her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers. "I have been given a wonderful wife who understands that old though this dog may be, he still has an itch."

Donelle snickered. "What were you mulling over when I disturbed you?"

"Jareth, as a matter of fact," he admitted. "Something is up with him and I can not for the life of me sort it out."

"I would think you'd be strutting like a prize cock!" Donelle's surprise took her brother's breath away. "For years he's done nothing but complain about his lot in life…Oh he performed his duties as Goblin King, barely… but he did perform. He gathered the unwanted, and he saw to it they were given to families who would not only accept the gift of a child but would appreciate what a treasure they were being given." She squeezed her brother's hand. "Why in the last couple of years he's shown an amazing amount of maturity! Pulling his Kingdom up out of the dust and demanding the respect it's due."

"Yes, he's done a wonderful job," agreed the King. "But Donelle, how did he come to suddenly want to be a real King? What happened that awoke him?"

"I know not," she admitted softly. "Does it really matter?"

Nodding Oberon's face showed worry. "Yes, dear sister, I think it just might." He looked at the pond as he spoke. "Jareth has always been a secretive soul, hiding his inner most feelings… raised in a court by women who were not his mother… I have never understood how she could just send him to me and then deny him ever after. Oh Tatiana did her best to be a good foster mother to the boy, and he's devoted to her…but it's not the same as having one's own mother. Some of his siblings were all too quick to point out to him that she's not his real mother."

"Poppy cock!" Exclaimed the woman; "Tatiana is very much his real mother…if not by blood by intent."

"I agree," Oberon smiled softly thinking of his proud and beautiful wife and her treatment of his child. She had taken him to her when he was but an infant and delivered unceremoniously to the High King. She had fussed over him as if he'd come from her own womb. "She loves him dearly, and is his most fervent supporter…often she has used influence over me to soften difficult times between me and the lad."

"Some of your other children are, well to be perfectly honest, they are jealous of the place Jareth has in your heart and in the High Queen's." Donelle stated.

"Because of their petty jealousy, Jareth learned to be secretive." Oberon observed with resentment. "Hiding his hurts, so few see the real Jareth… You, Tatiana... some time I see him… and of course your Devon."

"And not always Devon," sighed Donelle. "Jareth shares what he can, but alas…"

"Exactly, alas…" Oberon stood, and pulled his sister to her feet. "As you have pointed out I should be and am proud of the changes… For the love of the Goddess he's even taken to wearing a King's circlet! I never expected that."

"Take this change in your son as a sign…" she began.

"A sign is what I'm worried about sister," Oberon interrupted her. "Donelle, there are dark clouds a gathering," he shared his fears. "Dangerous times are ahead…"

It pained her to see the worry and apprehension on the face of her beloved brother. She moved closer to give comfort and support, as she opened her mouth to speak a sound filled the air. The sound was one of anguish, frustration and a soul in torment. The force with which it had been delivered shook the air and the very ground they stood upon. It also sent ripples surging in the clear calm waters of the pond. Even the waterfall reacted, the waters surging with more violence. Donelle looked from the High King to the pond and gasped.

Oberon pulled her back protectively, and blocked her from harm if it were about to rise out of the churning waters. A moment later it was gone, and the pair looked at the ripples on the water's surface. "What the hell was that?"

Donelle shook her head, "I have no idea, but that was such an anguished cry… only a mother can make that sound."

Oberon nodded, "Donelle, make my apologies to the court… I'd best go investigate this… That sound came from the mundane planes of the Mortals. I can pass between easily, and go unnoticed." He released his sister's hands and vanished from the pastoral setting.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23. Rosalind the decoy**

Devon arrived back at his estate late in the afternoon, he dreaded the next few moments. He found Bryn sitting in a chair reading, schooling his features, he entered the room. "I am sorry my dear," he began softly. "I fear we have to put our plans on hold for a time…something's come up and I am needed at the palace."

Bryn dropped her book, it slid from her lap to the floor as she stood. Fear and dread was expressed in her eyes. "Sarah?"

Lying though his teeth, Devon shook his head. "No, state business." The girl with long red hair seemed far better at reading him than he'd have liked. "I swear to you, my being called to the palace has nothing to do with Miss Williams."

"Did you see her?" Bryn asked trying not to sound too worried, but it was not working. She had seen the way the King had treated poor Sarah in their own lair, she could image what he'd done to her on his own turf.

"Yes," He said honestly. "I've seen her."

"Did he hurt her?" Bryn said before she could stop herself.

Devon would have preferred to not have this conversation. "Cariad, this is not your concern." He held up a hand when she was about to protest. "I don't have time right now to get into this. I have only a short time before I must report back to the palace, and I would like to …" He paused, not able to say what he needed to. "Cariad, until I return you must not leave the estate, do you understand?" He watched her face as she nodded. "Under no circumstance are you to walk off the property; however you are free to walk the garden and the orchard. Up to the wall, now promise me you'll remember."

"I promise," she whispered.

"Feel free to use the garden and the library, or any other room in the house you would like to explore." He took her hands. "I shall return in a few days."

"Would you please check up on Sarah for me?" She requested softly.

"I promise you, Miss Williams is being looked after." He touched her face before turning to leave.

Bryn sat down, closing her eyes tightly, and temping down the anger she felt at being lied to.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Oberon appeared stealthily in the world of man. His magic had taken him to a place where the fabric was very disturbed. Few of the Fae were aware of the wands he'd placed from time to time. He had learned long ago it was best to be aware of what was going on in the mundane world as it often had a way of spilling over and affecting his world. This was such a time.

The place where he stood smelled of a battle, one that had been waged by two magic users. One was Fae, and had a very distinct scent, Jareth. The other was distinct in its own right, and feminine, and not entirely mortal nor truly Fae. Oberon could see the activity of men hurriedly packing belongings and salting land, as if that would prevent some sort of retribution. He followed the scents, seeing they were strongest at the burning building. However he could sense no life force within the rubble. He turned his attention to where the activity was centered. In his stealthy state he could see, and hear without being observed himself. He could see two men, young Greeks by the look of them, and they were conversing. He moved closer to listen.

"Snake, are the rooms cleared out?" the one asked who had to be the leader.

The one who had been addressed as Snake answered. "Yes, Bear; every last thing that could be traced to the girls is gone."

"Good," the leader said.

"What do you want us to do with all this?" Snake asked. "We've got to tell the driver where to go."

Bear paced, his hands clasped behind his back. "Karass industries has a subsidiary, Portal Storage… we'll take it there, put it in one of the unused storage buildings. If the actress wants all that leather back she can ask for it." His voice was spiteful and malicious. "If not it can rot for all I care."

"And Lilith?" Snake asked.

"I'm going to keep her drugged for now. In a few months perhaps she'll forget all about Sarah…"

Snake grabbed the other by the forearm. "Are you as insane as that bitch you lust after? Forget Sarah? Can you say that you'll forget her?"

The man looked at the hand clamped to his arm. "No," he admitted darkly. "I will never forget Sarah Williams, or what she has cost me."

"Cost you?" the hand released the arm. "For the love of the Gods, Ari… look at what has happened… and see the truth. Lilith's hand is clearly on every last bit of this. It was Lilith who suggest to Sarah that she form a circle with her and poor Bryn. It was Lilith who worked like a demon to get the money to rent this god forsaken asylum… when all we had to do was tell your father we needed a place…. But no… you let Lilith display her body, and even perform sexual acts to obtain the money….Lilith whom you claim to love…lusted after Sarah, and you were and are jealous. But you'd better be honest with yourself my friend. Sarah Williams was unaware of Lilith's intentions, and never once lured Lilith…Sarah was innocent."

Dark Greek eyes flashed hate, "Sarah may have been unaware, but she was no innocent. Whatever destroyed that building… whomever," he corrected. "They took Sarah…and your Bryn… Sarah was no innocent."

Snake growled darkly back. "She was unknowing, and Lilith exploited that."

"And Lilith pays a high price for her arrogance." Ari pointed out hotly. "Her mind is gone! She will never be sane again… the rest of her life she will have to be kept on drugs to control her. My beautiful wild Lilith will have to live like a dog on a leash!"

"What does that compare to what happened Bryn and Sarah?" Argued the other Greek.

Ari turned away, he knew Snake was right, but his anger would not allow him to admit it. "When everything is cleared out, lock the gate and return the key to the rental agency. I'm going home…Lilith has been alone too long."

"Lilith is not alone; you've got nurse on her every hour." Snake spat. "Why did you treat Sarah's mother with such disrespect? She did nothing to you."

"She gave birth to that…."

Snake stormed. "Ari, if what Lilith said is true…"

"Not another word, Snake… or I'll forget we are friends." Ari warned darkly. "Don't make me sorrier than I am." He walked away.

Oberon had more information than he really knew. He paused as the young Greeks walked away. "Who is Sarah Williams, I wonder… and what does she have to do with Jareth?" He looked at the setting sun, and marveled how beautiful this world still could be. The last pale rays of the sun began to dip into the horizon, as the High King closed his eyes preparing to fold the fabric that kept his world and this one from colliding. Some inner instinct told him to stop; tilting his head to one side he sniffed the air. Two more distinct scents caught his attention; one was distinctly feminine and beguiling. The other was the one that had his notice, it was male, but it was not entirely human. The identity of the unknown Halfling intrigued the High King, in that moment he changed his plans. He decided to follow this new pair of scents, to gather more information before he confronted his wayward boy.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Devon arrived at the palace dressed in one of his finest uniforms. He stopped to see the steward, wishing to be sure the King's requirements had been addressed. The dinning hall looked perfectly appointed, and the crystal chandeliers were being lit giving the room a pleasant glow. He looked over at Philo and nodded his approval. He went swiftly up to the King's bedchamber, knowing Lady Rosalind; the first of the guests would be arriving soon.

"Is everything ready?" Jareth asked looking at his reflection in the mirror. He'd added a silk scarf at his throat, to cover the cruel and ugly marks that the collar had left. He winced as the fabric touched tender skin and caused him pain. He cursed under his breath as he worked to cover the scars.

Devon stood behind him looking at his reflection in the glass as well as that of the King. "Yes, everything is ready, and the guests are due any moment."

"Who is coming?" Jareth smoothed the dark tunic he wore over a silk shirt. He knew he was handsome, but tonight he had to appear more than just handsome, he had to appear more than merely physically powerful. He had to be commanding and virile.

"Besides our dear little Rosalind, we will be joined by the Duke and Duchess of Roswyl, Lord and Lady Astor, Lord and Lady Basque, and that delightful scamp Lady Charmaine… who will be my dinner partner as Rosalind is yours." Devon reached from behind the King to retie the silk scarf carefully so it resembled a cravat.

Jareth, now with the potion coursing in his veins, smiled. "Good planning… you've chosen the highest profiled Fae subjects. Wise, cousin, they will be most likely to boast of having been invited to the palace as long as you and I play our parts well."

"It is what you'd wanted," Devon answered carefully. "Until you are ready to unveil your pretty gilded bird…"

"I will not want her presences know until at least Solstice." Warned the King turning to face his cousin; "And I would suggest you keep your little …friend under wraps until then. Have you come up with a cover story for her presence?"

"I have not yet had time to come up with just the right tale to tell," Devon answered. The truth was he had not really thought things out. He had been so smitten with the girl; he'd never given any real thought to explain her to anyone. He frowned now, for that matter he'd not thought of what he planned to do with her once he'd bedded her. He was beginning to wonder why it was he'd asked for the girl. For that matter why was it he was thinking of her now, when he should be concentrating on the King's subterfuge and stratagem with this showy dinner party. His thoughts so occupied him he had not heard Jareth speak to him.

"Devon, did you hear me?" The King shook him. "I said it's time to go down, we don't want our guests wandering about."

Devon nodded. "Of course," he followed the King out of the bedchamber and stood at his side as they began the procession down the staircase to be greeted by the King's dinner guests.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Sarah opened her eyes, weak and dizzy, but still alive. She saw the shadowy figure of the creature with wings watching her. "Why didn't you let me die?" she asked in a soft moan.

"They wouldn't let me," the answer came in a tone that was devoid of kindness.

Another came forward carrying a cup with something steaming in it. "Miss Sarah," she addressed the girl. "I am Daisy, and that is Della. We will be your companions for now. You must drink this broth, it will give you strength."

Sarah turned away, "I have no wish to be strengthened," she gritted her teeth. "I wish to die."

"I'm afraid death is not an option open to you. You belong to the Goblin King now, and you will obey his orders." Daisy stated. "I would prefer to do this with your cooperation, however I'm under orders of the King to pour it down your throat if need be."

Sarah understood it was no idle threat; Jareth would give such an order. She turned back and looked at the Goblin woman's face; "Fine."

Sitting on the cot, the Goblin held the cup to the girl's lips. "Sip it slowly. You've been without nourishment, and I doubt your system is ready for more than simple broth to start."

"How long have I been in this… tower?" she asked between sips.

Della looked at her; "What does that matter? Time should mean nothing to you now, you will live only to serve…"

Daisy ignored her partner. "You've been in the tower for two days, and this is your third night."

"Thank you," Sarah said sipping the broth, and then stopped. Her eyes widened, and she moaned. "Damn him! He tricked me again…." She pulled back from the broth and wondered if she could regurgitate up what she'd taken in. "That bastard tricked me….drinking this broth chains me…to this hellish kingdom…"

Understanding the girl's qualms, Daisy waited for Sarah to calm down. "You've been chained to the Kingdom since your first visit, Sarah Williams."

"You lie," Sarah accused.

"Did you not eat of a peach on your last visit?" Daisy kept her tone civil, when the girl moaned and nodded the Goblin extended the cup to her once more. "You've been a part of us since then, Sarah Williams." She urged the girl to take in the nourishment. "You belong to the Labyrinth Kingdom and it's Goblin King."

Della gave the girl scornful looks, and scoffed at her cruelly. "I still don't see what the King wants with her."

Daisy did, she'd heard the tales from the night this girl had visited. She knew the words by heart, 'what no one knew was that the King of the Goblins had fallen in love with the girl…' She felt duty bound to nurse the girl back to health, what the King did with his healthy advisory was his business. Being Goblin, Daisy knew it was always better to battle a equal, and not a weakling. After all, fair was fair, even among Goblins.

Della looked down at the courtyard, and saw the carriages. "Seems our King is entertaining this evening," she commented over her shoulder, the smirk on her face was a gloating one, and hurtful. "I see Lady Rosalind is here, I suppose that means the King will have his handful tonight." She simpered and shook her backside suggestively. "Pity we have to miss the party just to baby sit this one. I'd love to watch the King toy with the affections of Lady Rosalind."

Daisy rolled her eyes, knowing the Harpy had no idea of whom she was dealing with here. "Lady Rosalind knows the King well enough to know he's never going to offer her something permanent." Sarah listened to the conversation as if she were not present. "Lady Rosalind is no fool."

"All women are fools," Della scoffed looking at Sarah.

Daisy asked Sarah quietly if she wished for more to drink and the girl shook her head no. The Goblin guard pulled the cup back, and watched Sarah who looked wistfully out to the night sky.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Jareth held out his hand in greeting to Lady Rosalind, drawing her close to him, "My dear thank you for coming on such short notice." He was pleased to find she'd worn the gown he'd requested, a rather risqué silk gown with a daring neckline. The full swell of her ample bosom was more than visible.

"I am always at my King's command," she said delicately as she dropped in a graceful curtsey, batting her lashes in a coquettish fashion.

Jareth looked down at the delightful sight of her exposed bosom, "I am so glad to hear that." He pulled her to her feet, "I would have you at my side tonight."

"With pleasure, Sire;" She joined him as he greeted the rest of his guests.

Devon smiled pleasantly at Lady Charmaine as she swept into the grand foyer of the palace. Her fuchsia colored gown went well with her creamy complexion and Devon was sure she knew how lovely she appeared. Extending his hands to her he greeted her warmly; "Charmaine, my dear, how lovely to see you again."

The woman took his hands but once she had her smile faded, "Devon, are you…" she paused mystified by something missing in the touch of her companion.

Looking at her with a painted on smile, Devon was quick to change the subject to move her attention to something other then him. "Charmaine, have you seen the new garden the King had created?"

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Oberon had followed the scent, it lead him to a green space in a bustling city. Huddled on a park bench sat a pair of forlorn lovers. The woman carried the scent that had fascinated the king catching his attention in the place where the ruins of a building still smoldered. Oberon looked at the female creature and even with tears streaking down her cheeks he was beguiled by her. She was unusual among human females, he could tell. Her body was not stick slender but had soft womanly curves that were most pleasing. She was a woman of no great stature, but she held herself with grace and poise even now, while weeping. He wondered to himself what color were the eyes of this pretty female, and how they may appear when she was overjoyed, or enthralled.

"This is my fault," the unhappy downhearted man said.

The voice caused Oberon's head to snap to attention, he looked away from the woman and stared at the man. The voice was familiar, and the scent of the man now so near nearly knocked the High King over. He gasped, not quite believing his own eyes. For here before him was the exact double of his own son, Jareth. Even the scent marker was similar, and Oberon knew the young man trying to comfort the woman had to be the fruit of his own loins. Sniffing deeper, he knew this was not a recent seeding, for the distinctive Fae pheromone was not strong enough to be recent. Still, this was one of his own, and what concerned the child had to concern the parent.

"No, Jeremy…" the woman sobbed softly. "It's not your fault alone… I have an equal responsibility here…"

"If I had not suggested you by that blasted book in that second hand store, Sarah would never have read it…." Jeremy bemoaned. "Linda, I'm so sorry."

"She'd have found it one way or another, or it would have found her." Linda reasoned. "I believe some things are fated… Like you and I…"

Oberon hunched down to listen to the pair speak.

Jeremy turned and looked at Linda. "It would have been better if I had but loved you in silence…. Look at the mess we're in now. The world thinks your daughter died in a fiery blast, and we can't tell anyone that she is not dead…who would believe us? Toby? He's only five… Robert will think we've lost our minds."

"Toby," Linda grabbed desperately at Jeremy. "OH my GOD! We have to protect Toby…he…he made a threat to that man he said was like the one that took Sarah away. If everything my old maw and Granny told me is true about them, they don't like to be threatened."

"I have a few items handed down to me," he suggested softly. "Perhaps one of them will have the power to protect the lad."

"We have to do what we can Jeremy… one child is one child too many to lose… but if they… No, we won't let them have Toby as well…." She wept. "Not as well as my Sarah….Oh Jeremy, how could goblins come and take my baby? I… I didn't wish her away…."

Oberon was beginning to wonder that himself, but he still had little clue as to who Sarah Williams really was.

Jeremy sniffed the air, "Do you smell that?" he asked becoming concerned. "We are not alone, there's someone here…"

Linda's tears quickly dried, and fear was in her eyes as she looked up. Oberon looked at the woman's eyes, deep green with pale blues and golds in their heart. They were the kind of eyes that beguiled a man to his very soul. Even if that man were of the Fae ilk, and Oberon found himself envying the young man his position of being the woman's lover. He moved closer, drinking her scent and pheromones in like an elixir. There was a fiery soul within this dark haired green eyed vixen, and Oberon wished to feel the full force of that fire.

Linda swallowed hard; she could feel something close to her. She could smell a tangy spiciness that was more potent than even the scent that dripped off Jeremy. There were little shocks of electricity that danced on her skin, and she felt her pulse race and her skin flush. "Jeremy, take me home…." She stood up. "I want to go home." There was fear in her voice.

Oberon stood and watched the pair walk away. "What is it you fear pretty one? Is it me, or yourself?" He mused as he began to slowly follow the pair.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Jareth leaned back in his chair, sipping his wine and listening to the amusing tale Lord Basque was regaling them with. He laughed softly at the appropriate times, but he didn't real feel much enjoyment. His throat was paining him, he felt drained in spite of the potion that gave him the outward appearance of vigor. Rosalind was playing her part well, enjoying the attention of not only the King, but of these important high ranking Couriers.

Devon kept a careful eye on the King, while trying to be attentive to his companion.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Daisy noticed that Sarah winced every now and then, apparently for no reason. When the court musicians began to play the mortal girl groaned and looked miserable. Daisy pulled herself off the cot and looked at the mortal girl with concern; "You need to get to your feet and walk, it will help you rebuild your strength."

Sarah groaned darkly. "Easier said than done, I can bear no ones touch, and I don't think I'm strong enough to walk about on my own." She winced again. "And when I move… theses damn rings cause me pain."

"Pain is something you'd best get use to living with," Della observed sitting with one leg draped out the entry window.

The Goblin moved to block Sarah's view of the Harpy, wanting her to pay attention to what she was saying and trying to achieve, not to the Harpy who was working against her. "I heard that you were single minded when you ran the Labyrinth… that to achieve your goal you were determined and persistent… Where is the tenacious Sarah Williams I was told of?"

"She's dead," Sarah said uninterested in what Daisy was trying to do.

"Perhaps we should go bring back the boy," Della suggested trying to be cruel.

Sarah shoved off the sheet that covered her nakedness, her eyes burned like flames and a roar escaped her lips. "You will not touch him!" she moved swiftly toward the harpy, her hands extended in the bat of an eyelash and she aimed for the throat of the winged creature. Della had been taken by surprise at the swiftness with which the injured and weak mortal moved. She had sat on the sill a moment longer than she should have and was nearly knocked out the window by the force with which Sarah connected with her.

Daisy too had been taken by surprise, not just by the swift movement, but by the change in the girl's chemical scent. She moved quickly to separate the moral from the Harpy before the Harpy thought to strike back. Once she had them apart she placed herself between them so Della would not attack the mortal in retaliation. "Hold!" she ordered the angry Harpy. "You had that coming," she warned. "Now stand down, birdie."

"Runt," Della warned coldly. "If she tries that one more time…"

Daisy looked over her shoulder at the not so mortal, mortal. "You have fire in your soul, and in your belly… Sarah Williams… you seem to be becoming… Goblin."

Sarah staggered back to lean on a wall. "I'm not!"

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Oberon had followed the young couple back; they had come to stand on the stairs of a little building in what appeared to be a very old but stylish neighborhood. Jeremy was holding the hands of the woman and asking if there were anything he could do for her. He seemed to be saddened when the woman told him he'd done enough for one day. More than enough, and she bid him good night, promising she'd call him the next day. The High King watched the young man, the young man who was without a doubt one of his own descendants, accept the rebuttal and make a quiet departure. For a moment the King pitied the lad, had he been but a few generations earlier in then descendant chain, he would not have accepted the refusal but would have beguiled the woman and giving comfort while taking his own pleasure.

Linda stood on the stairs looking majestic as she waved the young Halfling off. She was a stately and proud looking human the King mused. Head held high, and shoulders squared. He was not really prepared for what happened next.

"You can show yourself," Linda said calmly. "I'm not afraid."

Oberon observed the fire in her eyes, and the determination on her pretty face. He was sure she really believed she was not afraid, and he was totally amused. He spoke to her. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," she said a bit shaken. She had not really expected to be answered.

Waving his hand the High King materialized before the woman, standing at her side. "As you wish," he said quietly, keeping his tone calm. Linda looked into the eyes of the High King; her mouth parted slightly, her face showed awe and something the High King had not expected to find in a mortal. Her features held respect for him, for his office for his ilk. He extended his hand to her. "Am I what you expected?"

"No," she admitted softly. "I'm not really sure what I was expecting but… it was not…you." She looked down at the extended hand and without hesitation placed her hand in his.

Feeling pleasantly amused by the mortal creature the High King teased her gently. "Disappointed?"

"No," she said as a blush rushed to color her cheeks and even in the darkness of the newly fallen evening he could see her color rise.

"Allow me to introduce myself, I am Oberon…" He said as he raised her hand in courtly manner to kiss her fingers.

"I'm Linda Williams…" she said introducing herself.

"Indeed," his voice went an octave lower, sounding like the purr of a great cat coming from deep in his throat. Gazing into the green jeweled eyes, he failed to remember his mission. He was far more interested in this pretty human creature.

"Oberon," she repeated almost in a dazed state. "As in High King of the Fae, King of Shadows and Fairies… husband of the …" she pulled back swiftly. "Very jealous High Queen Tatiana?"

"I have no idea of how that ugly rumor got spread," he said amusedly. "She's no more jealous than most wives… and very understanding of my… predilection and penchant for human females from time to time." He didn't pursue the pretty mortal but rather took a casual seat on her stairs. "You are no stranger to such an arrangement, or am I mistaken?"

Linda sat down, her back to the stone wall that the handrail was set in. She had the grace to look slightly guilty. "Jeremy is… what is the word...Kithain."

"And you have been lovers;" Observed the High King still chuckling amusedly as he leaned back on one elbow, aware that his royal robes were a far cry from her modern dress. He wondered what the pretty creature would look like dressed in court style.

"Have been being the operative phrase," sighed the pretty woman. "That was long ago, and we are both paying for it."

"Nothing comes without a price," agreed Oberon casually. "I too have often paid for my… wanderings."

"Yet you still wander?" Linda asked forgetting for a moment she was conversing with a Fae.

"I get itchy feet," he teased. Without considering the consequences, Linda Williams began to chuckle lightly at the amusing comment. Oberon listened to the sound, and looked at her with recognition. "You are the one who called out to me in your anguish." His voice was no longer amused but had become serious. "I heard your cry all the way in Avalon."

Linda looked at the High King; her face was still beautiful even in her sorrow. "Goblins took my daughter away." She stated with conviction. "I didn't wish my child away… I was under the impression that they could not take what was not offered."

"In most cases that would be true," Oberon replied. "However, nothing about this case seems to be…ordinary."

"This case?" Linda shook her head, trying to keep her thoughts straight, but finding it hard to think sitting so close to this Fae and his overwhelming sexual scent. "I'm sorry, I don't understand." She found her self bracing against the wall for support; she raised a hand and griped the hand rail hopping it would give her some grounding.

Oberon could not miss the reactions she was having. "Your daughter, like her mother, is no ordinary girl…" He rose to his feet, held out a hand and smiled at her. "Come with me." He invited gently.

"It's not that I'm not …" she swallowed quickly. "I'm grateful… but…."

"My feet itch," he murmured with a salacious gleam in his eyes. His lips twitched slightly, as he smiled down at the mortal holding on to the last shreds of her humanity. "You've tasted Kithain, now taste Fae." He suggested scandalously as he leaned down on one knee that was upraised on a serrate step from his other leg. "Come with me, pretty thing."

All sense of right and wrong faded into a void. Linda's hand slipped off the handrail and she lost the battle to deny this magnificent male anything he desired of her. What had attracted her to Jeremy was nothing in comparison to what she was being overwhelmed with now. She placed her hand in his, knowing there would be no turning back. "Yes," she mewled softly.

Oberon closed his hand about hers, pulled her gently to her feet and to him. Enfolding her in loving arms he bent forward to place his lips to her long elegant throat. "Come away, oh human child," he whispered suggestively in her ear; "To the waters and the wild…"

Wrapping her arms about the waist of the Fae man, she melded her body to his. "Yes."

Oberon smiled, closed his eyes and took the willing woman though the fabric that separated her world from his. When he opened his eyes they were in a place on Avalon where he knew they would not be disturbed. He scooped the willing woman up into his arms, and carried her off to a flowery bed.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Rosalind was the first to notice the uninvited man standing in the corridor arguing with the Steward. She placed a hand on the thigh of the King and gave him a squeeze to gain his attention. Her eyes moved toward the corridor, and the King placed a hand on hers to let her know he was aware.

Philo entered the dinning hall and looked flustered and upset. "Sire, I do humbly apologies for the interruption." He bowed to the King. "There is a Lord Talagon in the foyer…" He motioned toward the door, and gave a startled gasp as the man moved into the room unannounced and uninvited. "My Lord, I bid you wait!"

"Be silent you … creature of the dirt." Talagon snarled.

Philo was taken aback, though he was of good Hobgoblin stock, no one had ever addressed him as a creature of the dirt. He looked in shock at the King. "Sire," he gasped.

Jareth looked at his Steward with a calm gaze. "That will be all Philo, thank you." There was support in his tone, and the proud Steward exited the room with his head held high. Jareth looked at the Fae Lord who was causing a fuss. "Lord Talagon, are you under the impression that I am at your beck and call?"

The man snarled at the Goblin King disrespectfully. "I have little time for player kings." Both Lord Astor and Lord Basque looked a ghastly at the man speaking. Their wives also were showing shock, but Talagon ignored them. "I come to warn you boy, you keep those damn Harpies of yours under control and off my land! Or I will shoot them down," he threatened with a clenched fist raised up and shaking toward the King.

"Lower you hand," Jareth said darkly. "Least I take this conduct as a sign of aggression to my person."

Devon found himself a bit surprised at Jareth's reaction to this intimidation. He was also surprised to find the King's tone was menacing and powerful without having to resort to raising his voice.

Talagon too was taken aback, and lowered his raised fist. "I have warned you about your Harpies." He continued but his words came out a bit more shakily and defensive.

"Talagon," Jareth tossed his napkin to the table with contempt and scorn. "How dare you take that tone with me? Have you been elevated to the status of King?" he saw the reaction in the other's eyes and growled menacingly. "You are only a noble… you are not a Royal, and no matter what your personal feelings toward me maybe, you should always remember that I am Royal born." He stood up and placed both hands on the table. "Do not threaten me, and do not threaten my Harpies."

Talagon's eyes flared with hate, "I'm warning you for the last time, boy…"

"You will address me as King or you will pay the consequences." There was a dark rumbling nose in the throat of the man with stormy eyes. "You owe my guests an apology for interrupting our dinner."

Rosalind smiled a simpering smile, she'd suffered a few insults at the hand of Talagon and seeing him taken down a notch or two pleased her.

Talagon looked at Astor and Basque and their wives. "I extend my humble apology to both of you my Lords and your Ladies…" He looked at Rosalind and Charmaine, "I however do not extend the same courtesy to these whores." He turned on his heel swiftly heading toward the door, shouting over his shoulder. "You've had my last warning."

Astor looked at the King, "Sire, if you wish, I will go and issue a…"

Jareth waved the man back into his seat. "Lord Astor, while I do appreciate your support, I know that Lord Talagon does not fight fair, and I would hate to be deprived of your company. I've a better way to even my score with that bag of wind." He took his seat, and looked over at Rosalind. "I'm sorry, my dear." He placed a hand to hers.

"Don't worry; Sire…" she answered with her head held high. "I've a much thicker skin than he knows."

He looked at Charmaine who was also holding her head high, "I never give much credence to that bag of wind," the woman answered before the King could address her. "Talagon has held a grudge over me for years as I don't relish his idea of… friendship." She gave thought to his threat, "Sire, I would however be aware he can be a danger."

"You think he'd dare raise a hand to do harm to me?" Jareth leaned back amused by the thought.

"Not directly, no." The woman with hair like spun gold replied in a serous manner; "He's sneaker than that… he would not want to chance being brought up on charges before the High King, he will not chance Eschant law. When he strikes, and it is when, my King… he will strike against something not of the Kindred."

Rosalind placed her hand on the King's, in full vision of all present. "Charmaine is correct, Sire. You must take care."

Jareth used the moment to his advantage, raised the hand on his to his lips and kissed her fingers. "Thank you both for your concern." He said smugly. Both Lord Astor and Lord Basque made note of the sign of deference the King was paying to Rosalind. Jareth knew that it would become common knowledge in a very short time and a good many would speculate that the pretty red haired woman was at long last the King's Paramour. He would find a way to reward the woman for her cooperation, through it would never be a place in his bed, or his home. For now Rosalind was useful, and happy to play her part. The King smiled at her, but was looking past her. His cousin was distracted, and that was not good. "I have heard," he said loudly, drawing Devon back to the moment; "That there have been disturbances along our boarder, perhaps we need to buck up our guards… beef up the security…"

Devon looked at him, "I shall see to it first thing in the morning, Sire."

"Good," Jareth rang the bell next to his plate. "Philo, dessert if you will;" He draped his arm over the back of Rosalind's chair, and looked down at her visible beauty. "Astor, you were telling me of the plans for the Solstice celebration… continue."


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24. Oberon's bargain**

Linda listened to the pounding of her own heart as she lay covered by the milkweed thread sheet along side the handsome Fae. Her blood was still racing though her veins at breakneck speed. His right hand lazily stroked her hair as he watched her with a leisurely smile on his lips. She looked up into his pleasured eyes and released a long exasperated exhale. "You Fae don't play by the rules, do you?"

"We've our own set," he mused back with a gentle smirk.

She looked about franticly for her garments, knowing she was wearing mundane clothes when he'd carried her into this exotic bed. Under her breath she kept muttering that she should have listened to her mother. She didn't remember taking her street clothes off, but as she was completely naked under this sheet she must have at some point disrobed. "Where are my clothes?" she asked at long last.

"You have no need of them for now," answered the snide man placing his free arm under his head, "I will return them to you in due time." He sounded entirely too pleased with himself, and was grinning wickedly.

"Not good enough," she said pulling herself up and covering her body with the sheet. "I have things to do, places to go, people to kill…"

Oberon chuckled loudly as she worked to extricate herself from his touch. "My dear Linda," he teased. "The only thing you have to do right this moment is keep me amused."

"Well begging your almighty pardon," she quipped. "But I've got to warn my ex-husband that his son is in danger… and then…then I'm going to find that rat bastard, the Goblin King and kiss his royal ass…to kingdom come!" She was beyond keeping her voice and manners calm, she was just this side of fury.

Eyeing her like a prized possession, and entertained by the show of motherly fury, Oberon inclined his head to one side as he rose up on his elbow. "You're just the mother who could too." He laughed as he lay back. "Damn, I'd forgotten how delightful you mortal women can be."

"I'm not trying to delight you," argued the woman still franticly gazing about the bower he'd brought her into. "I'm trying to find my clothes."

"You won't find them until I'm ready for you to." He said unabashedly. "And I'm not ready."

Frowning, Linda glared at him, "I suggest you get over yourself."

"I suggest you give up Jeremy, my son," he retorted. "Though I may be a very sharing and caring father, I will not share you with anyone including any one of my sons."

"Son?" scoffed the actress darkly. "He is not your son! Jeremy's parents I've met… old man, and guess what… You weren't there."

Delighted by her fire and spunk Oberon rolled to his side. "Ah Linda, you are a wicked little vixen… alright, I'll grant I'm not his birth father… but Grand, great, whatever sounds so… ancient and though I am getting up in years… I'm not beyond my prime, now am I?" He looked down toward the extending and engorging appendage.

She blushed, "I refuse to answer that on the grounds that it's incriminating." She pulled the sheet tighter about her bosom, trying to hide the fact that her nipples were hardening and her breasts raised. "You're a dirty old man, that's what you are, you old goat!" In the next breath he'd used his legs to knock her flat on her back and he was pinning her down.

"_**Ma-a-a-ah!."**_ He teasingly bleated as he nuzzled her neck. His reward was her back arching and her mewling. "Don't deny me Linda," he warned softly. "You're no match for me…I am after all a King."

"You're a lying bastard," she pouted as her own body betrayed her.

Oberon pulled the sheet away and cupped her firm and raised breast. "And you want me," he observed, "baaaa-ddddly." He bleated like a goat.

"Pervert," she groaned as he used his knees to spread her wide to accept him. "Fucking Fairy pervert!"

"Yes," He admitted proudly as he entered her forcefully and heard her gasp in excitement and dark pleasure. "And you my sweet are mine, so you had best accept it."

"You think your wife is going to be understanding about this?" she was grasping at straws. "From what I hear, she's not the soul of understanding, and I don't relish the idea of being made a target for her to practice on."

"My wife," he growled as he began to find his rhythm, "Is far and away more understanding about my…trysts than you mortals credit her with being. I blame Will Shakespeare for that bit of misinformation…poetic license my ass… She's very understanding when I find pleasure in a mortal now and again." He hovered over her with a pleased grin. "Just as I understand when she takes a mortal for…pleasure."

"Well, I am not so understanding," argued the woman whose legs had a mind of their own and wrapped about the hips thrusting into her. "God I hate you!"

"Don't lie to yourself darling, you're loving me…and I am so loving you," he teased gently as he drew reactions from her that drove home his point. "And I will never let you go."

Arching and breathing in long anguished pants, Linda found herself torn. Part of her was overjoyed to hear him declare her a treasured possession, and part of her wanted to rip free of his throbbing appendage and run for her life. "Stop," she pleaded. "This is not fair!"

"In comparison to what? By whose standard," he questioned as he continued to thrust his throbbing hardness into her. "From where I sit, or lie rather, this is completely fair."

"You're … married…" she moaned.

"Details," murmured the High King as he thrust deeper. "Now be a good little mortal and moan again."

"What if I get pregnant?" she asked boldly. "How the hell do I explain that?"

"To whom?" he asked back, but didn't halt his quickening pace of thrusts. "You're not going anywhere where you'd have to explain anything, and there is no question of what if…"

"I can't stay here!" Her body ground her hips to his, pulling him deeper inside her as she felt her vagina contract about his swollen manly appendage as it beat up against her cervix. "Don't do this…"

"Too late," he braced himself by yanking her hips closer as he buried his seed in her very warm, very fertile womb; "Much too late."

Linda collapsed back on the flowery bower; "You bastard," she cried softly. "You lying, cheating fucking Fairy Bastard."

"Yes, I can be," he agreed now perched over her. "But you'll get use to it in a few centuries." He kissed her eyelids. "Sleep my vixen…" her eyes fluttered and enchanted sleep was granted to her. "Your King has a few… subjects to see to… and a wife to placate." He kissed her lips once more. "Sleep well, my paramour."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Oberon moved from his private garden down to the Queen's favorite hot spring pond. He had heard that she was keeping some of her courtiers with her to enjoy the warm waters. "Ladies," the High King greeted the giggling females. "Where is my Queen?"

"Her Majesty is in the waterfalls cooling waters, Sire." One pretty little Lady in Waiting supplied him with the information.

Oberon moved toward the curtain of water, "Tatiana, I need to speak with you my dear." He said softly.

Stepping from the curtain of water, the High Queen looked at him with mild interest. "I had heard you had gone to the mortals' realm," she reached for her drying cloth and her robe. "There was a cry of anguish; did you locate its source?" Once she had donned her robe she held out her hand to her husband.

"I did," he answered sheepishly.

"I know that look," she snickered teasingly. "So the High King rides again?"

"Indeed," he simpered.

"And what is her name?" The High queen took a seat on a tree stump that was beside her.

Oberon knelt at her side, gazing lovingly into the dark eyes of his Queen, his wife. "Her name is Linda…Linda Williams, and I think you're going to like her…she's full of fire, much like you my darling." He leaned forward to kiss his wife's brow.

"Linda Williams, that's a pretty name." Tatiana gave him a quizzical look. "I suppose she's not very happy about being abducted and all. I hear tell that these modern mortal women have a mind set all their own."

"It does not matter, I've brought her here, and here she will remain…" Oberon stood up, clasped his hands behind his back and took an unmovable stance.

Merriment filled the eyes of the High Queen. "Oh by the sounds of your statement, she's not happy about this situation, is she Oberon?"

He shrugged. "I have to do a bit of investigating; it would seem our Goblin King has taken a child that was not wished away."

"Impossible," protested the woman still dripping from the shower in the falls. "He knows the rules… and he's always been so… diligent."

"Yes, well I believe a little visit is in order." Oberon held his hands out to his wife. "I leave the isle of Avalon to your good judgments whilst I am away. My pretty posy is sleeping in my bower, see to it she is not disturbed. I shall return as soon as I've gleaned what I need to know from our wayward boy."

"Your wayward boy," corrected the Queen gently. "I am but his step mother… loving, but still only a step. You on the other hand, are the tree from which his seed was produced. If he's wayward you can take all the credit, we know you will have nothing of the blame."

"You know me too well," He kissed her brow once more. "Take care of our isle, good wife."

"Be careful," she cautioned. "If Jareth took a child without it being wished away there must have been good reason."

"We shall see," Oberon said as he transported himself away from his isle home.

Tatiana looked at the women cavorting in the hot spring pond. "Mossie," she called softly. "I'm going for a walk." She moved quietly toward the King's private garden to get a peep at the sleeping woman her husband had just brought into the community.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Charmaine looked over the balustrade, her emotions getting the better of her. Even the beauty of the King's night garden could not improve her temperament. For a long time she and Devon had a pleasant understanding, no strings, just good times. However tonight she had the feeling he was not at all present. It was not that the evening had not been pleasant, for it had been most enjoyable with the exception of Talagon. It was the fact that Devon seemed distracted, and not in the least was the distraction attached to her. "Care to tell me where you are?" she asked carefully.

Devon looked at her somewhat confused, "I beg your pardon?"

"I truly wish that you could or would," she grumbled feeling insulted more by his lack of attention than the insults hurled at her earlier by Talagon. "Devon, we've been friends and companions for a good many years…I know when you are not present. So I would like to know what or who is occupying your thoughts."

The Fae Baron closed his eyes, "Charmaine, I do ask for forgiveness if I've been inattentive." His voice even to his own ears was just shy of impatient. "I have business of the realm on my mind I assure you, and Talagon's threats have added their weight to my already heavy load."

"Horse-pucky," she pursed her painted lips and stared at him. "I'm not some simple milk maid, Devon. Don't try to pull the wool over my eyes… You're duties to the King have never interfered with your having a good time. NO, this is something…or someone else."

"Drop it," he warned darkly. "I mean it Charmaine, drop it or I shall forget the years of friendship we've shared."

Lord Astor and his wife were also in the garden; Lady Astor was marveling at the array of flowers in bloom. Lord Basque and his lady were looking at the new fountain the King had commissioned. Rosalind was giving them the details of the new piece when she noticed Jareth's face change from his pleasant smile to a expression of concern.

"Another uninvited guest," He said quietly. "One I can not turn away, Rosalind be a dear and keep my guests entertained." He motioned to Devon who at once came to his side. "WE've got company."

"Who?" Devon looked about but saw no one.

Jareth headed toward the palace. "The High King, that's who…" he began to mutter under his breath.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Knowing there was no element of surprise when he would appear; Oberon chose not to materialize in the Throne Room, but rather in the court yard outside the Palace's main entry. He breathed deeply, closed his eyes, and allowed his senses to sort out the scents. He knew most of them by heart, and it was the one or two faintly mortal scents that he was interested in. One was here on the palace grounds. The other was some distance, and he found that slightly amusing. He could sense a thread of magic in each of the mortals… and a definite feminine vibe to the scents.

Moving toward the tower, he took into account the state of the castle. It was cleaned up, there was no question of that. The tower's structure was covered in sheets of ivory and topped with opal, and for some reason that struck a cord with the High King. He had forgotten this tower was even here, and looked up to see a hint of Harpy wing dangling out the window entrance of the highest room in the tower. He could see and read the enchantment on the structure, and made no effort to enter. Whatever his son was hiding, he would have to reveal soon enough.

Turning toward the entry he found that palace guards were awaiting his approach. Silently the Goblin guards opened the heavy oaken doors and gave entry to the High King of the Fae. Oberon stepped with an easy gait toward the circular throne room now reserved for the Goblins. His robes swept with elegance and stylishness as he entered his son's domain. "Greetings Goblin King," he said placing his hands to his hipline, his smile was broad and his eyes danced as he spoke the pleasant greeting.

"Greetings High King," Jareth returned the greeting although not with as much cheerfulness and jollity as the High King's greeting. "What brings you so far from you pretty isle?"

"You do, son." Oberon looked at Devon who was standing beside the Goblin Throne. "Nephew, I bring you the greetings of your mother…."

"Oh gods, we're in trouble…" groaned Devon in a sulky tone.

Jareth elbowed his cousin, while keeping his eyes on the High King. "I wish to thank you again for the amusing time we shared on Samhain."

"Ah yes… Samhain… when you left early…" Oberon teased.

"With your permission," Devon reminded the older King who turned to look at him with a look that silenced the young Baron.

Oberon looked at his son, seeing the silk scarf he mused. "New look, laddie mine?"

Absent mindedly the Goblin King put a hand to his scared throat. "Variety is the spice of life, or so you've often told me."

"Indeed, I have said that," Oberon agreed moving closer. "I have also said that lies spin a web that is hard to escape."

"I've told no lie…" Jareth sidestepped.

"Yet," corrected his father harshly. "Now, my boy, care to tell your old man what the hell you've been up to, and why the tower of the Bonded Slave is again occupied?"

"Shit," Devon muttered turning away. "We're ousted."

Jareth smiled at Oberon, "I don't know, Father, seems you're ahead of me." He rose from his throne, defended the few steps of his dais and walked to where the High King stood. "First a question," he said swiftly. "Am I or am I not King?"

Oberon raised one elegant brow, and placed a long fingered hand to his beard to contemplate the answer. "You are king; you are the Goblin King to be precise."

"And as King I am protected under the Eschant?" Jareth's eyes were filling with a wicked pleasure knowing the answer that would have to be given.

"I don't know what you're up to, but yes, under Eschant you are given certain rights and protections." Oberon was now tapping his chin. "What ever it is you've done, you're going to claim privileges and constitutional rights under the Eschant, I take it."

"Indeed," Jareth crossed his arms in defiance. "I am."

"Jareth," his father warned with great sensitivity, "I am fond of you, more than any of my other children in fact. However I suggest you don't try me… I am still High King."

"I would not have it any other way Father." Jareth said in his formal voice.

Oberon looked at the pair, "I know you two are up to something, so you may as well tell dear old dad what it is."

"Dear old dad?" Questioned the Goblin King; "My, aren't we condescending tonight?"

"Start with the need for that scarf," one swift wave of his hand and the scarf on the other's neck was undone revealing to the High King the state of his son's throat. "Good Goddess, what have you done to yourself?"

"I didn't do this," Jareth groused pulling the scarf about the marks once more to cover them completely. "I was abducted and held captive…"

"Abducted? When, where, and how?" Roared the old lion.

"Avalon, Morrigan's Dance, on Samhain…." Jareth said softly; "Three mortal witches evoking the rites from the _**La Tène**_ scrolls."

Oberon looked over at Devon who nodded, the High King scowled as he glowered. "Avalon is supposed to be protected from that kind of interference…"

"I think it's because they used Morrigan's name and he had just wandered into Morrigan's Dance, on Samhain… the combination set up a vortex they were able to penetrate your wards and defenses." Devon observed having given this much thought over the last few days.

Oberon was still concerned, "I will have to be more diligent in our wards…" He looked at his son. "Go on," he coaxed.

"I was held captive for eleven hours, when Devon and my personal guards rescued me. I used the laws in Eschant to bring judgment swiftly down on my captives." Jareth said evasively.

Knowing a good evasive side step when he saw one, Oberon questioned his son. "Why would three mortal witches out of the blue set about to trap a Fae. And not just any Fae, but the Goblin King?"

"One of them may have had a grudge…" Jareth admitted softly. "She may have had some feeling of resentment or complaint from a prior incident."

"The one now in your tower?" Oberon asked enjoying the banter. "Would she be the young lady with a grudge?"

"Could very well be," Jareth smiled.

"You said three witches… yet I can trace only two scents present here." Oberon observed. "Where's the third?"

"Still in the land of mortals and mundane…" Jareth grumbled. "Banished for all time from Fairy soil."

"Harsh," observed his Father.

"They held me captive, tortured me, and caged me in an iron cage… placed a collar laced with iron about my throat…" Jareth's anger rose again as thoughts of the recent torment and suffering renewed. "The three are lucky I didn't call for payment in their deaths!"

Oberon looked over at Devon; "Eleven hours?" when the Baron nodded he asked his guilt ridden nephew; "How long did you observe before you stepped in?"

"Almost eleven hours." Devon admitted quietly. "At first it was just… silly sexual temptations and deprivations…harmless really."

The Goblin King snorted. "You try being tied to a table and denied release; we'll see how harmless you find it."

Oberon placed a calming hand to the shoulder of the angry King; "Go on, Devon."

"It was when they caged him that I felt it was time to break the party up." Devon moved closer to father and son. "Or actually swing the pendulum to our side."

"I see," Oberon looked at the young men. "So you each took one of the little witches…"

"Yes, sir." They said together like school boys found out in some prank and plot.

"And you allowed on to remain behind," Oberon repeated.

"I bound her powers and banished her…" Jareth stated as if it had covered his bases.

"And the two you've taken as…"

"Spoils of war," Jareth said quietly.

"Spoils of war," Oberon repeated skeptically. The High King winced, pinched the bridge of his nose and let go of the exasperation he was feeling building. "OH lords," he muttered. "What a mess you've made son."

"Father, they waged war, not I." Jareth said firmly. "I was perfectly happy to…" his words stopped suddenly, as he had no plans to own up to the reason for the one witch's resentment.

Oberon was wise, too wise to be fooled by a young pup. "And the reason the one resented you enough to wage a war on a Fae King?"

Devon looked sheepishly at his cousin, and backed away slightly. "This does not concern me…it happened before I got involved."

Oberon looked at his son, "I suggest you start speaking or would you like me to enter the tower and interigate the prisoner?"

"You can't," Jareth said firmly. "I've got wands up and enchantments and….guards…"

Chuckling at his son's frustration, Oberon mused. "Do you really think they could stop the King of all Fae?"

"No," admitted the trapped king. "But they would sure put a cramp in your plans." He sighed. "The one witch is known to me…her name is Sarah…Sarah Williams… and she wished her baby brother away a few years ago…"

"Ah, so she wants the baby back now after all this time… no wait that's not possible…" Oberon mulled over the few facts. "What are you not telling me, boy?"

"I gave her the usual thirteen hours to solve the Labyrinth…" Jareth evaded.

"And when she failed?" Oberon asked pulling his beard again.

Jareth muttered. "She didn't fail."

Stark shock caused the High King to croak out. "She what?"

"She didn't fail," Jareth admitted aloud. "She made it all the way to the castle… and in only eleven hours." Wincing he remembered her in the room of stairs, always just one level away from the boy… that sweet golden haired boy. "I took time from her and still she made it to the castle… never in all my contact with mortal females have I seen such dedication and commitment to achieving her goal…There has never been nor will there ever be another quite like Sarah."

Oberon heard the change in his sons' tone as he spoke the name of his foe. "You said she made it to the castle in eleven hours… but the tourney is thirteen…"

"I stalled, I did everything I could to detour her…I even gave her the romance of a grand ball… but she only wanted the boy back… so when she…" Jareth paused, bitterness seizing him. "So when she took a leap of faith I gave her one last obstacle… I offered her, her dreams…"

Alarms began sounding in the back of the High King's brain, he moaned softly. "You did what?"

"I offered her, her dreams." The younger King repeated bitterly.

Oberon shook his head, moving back and began to pace too many things were just too familiar here. "No, tell me you didn't…"

"She refused them, refused me… and then next thing I know she's saying the words that break the spell and wham she's gone and so is the boy!" Jareth was now speaking out his frustrations.

"What did you do?" Oberon gripped his shoulders and shook him. "What did you do?"

"She chose the boy," Jareth said as if in a trance. "So I let her take him…not that I could have stopped her at that moment…" He looked up, wild eyed, and sadistically pleased. "So I took her dreams…"

The High King heard the words, saw his son's lips speak them. He saw them move, heard the words but could not for just the briefest of moments believe them. He shook the younger man violently and then raised one hand, giving the back of the younger king's head a good hard slap. Devon had never seen the High King strike one of his own before, and staggered back. "What in the name of the seventh level of hell do you think you're doing?"

"She chose the boy!" Jareth roared as his eyes filled with bitter un-spilled tears. "She choose the boy." He collapsed into his Father's arms. Both men sank to their knees, on bracing the other as he wept the tears that had been kept under guard. "She chose…the boy…."

Oberon looked to Devon, "I take it this was no ordinary runner."

"No, sire," Devon said softly. "The girl… was unique." Devon stayed at a distance for fear of the High King taking a well deserved swat at him as well. "I believe Jareth was taken with her even before she wished the child away."

Calming his son, the High King looked into his eyes with considerable compassion and sensitivity. "Tell me what you did, boy…tell me it all."

Jareth was leaning on his father's chest, sobbing. "I went after her, wanting to give her one more…chance…but she was celebrating her victory over me…and I was barred from entering her quarters whilst she was waking…" he gulped down the tears. "I waited, and when she had bid her guests goodbye and was alone and asleep…I entered her rooms…" his lips curled with the memory. "I bent over her, deepened her sleep and took from her that which belonged to me… her first true kiss and then her dreams." The wild-eyed look had returned, as had the sneer. He looked into his father's face; "She should never have been able to leave," he growled as he gripped his father's garments. "I don't understand… how she could choose him, and leave."

Oberon looked deeply into the disturbed stormy eyes. "Devon, bring the healer to Jareth's chambers, now!" The High King took command and swept the ailing child up into his arms and away from the throne room. He gently laid the King upon his bed and bid him to be still. Moments later when Devon and Ghillie Dhu appeared Oberon drew his nephew aside; "Go, take care of his guests… tell them he's been called away. No one will question a summons. Bid the guests good night and return to me. We've words to say between us."

"Yes, Uncle," Devon hoped that using the family title instead of the royal one would buy him time.

The High King took a seat and waited for the Healer to finish his examination of the Goblin King.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Devon found Rosalind; his face told her what she didn't want to hear. "Dear God we're in trouble," she mumbled as she moved to where he stood. "What is it?"  
Not wishing to lie to her, as she was more useful when she had information, Devon grabbed her wrist. "The High King is here, and he and Jareth are …. We have to get rid of the guest. The High King suggests saying the King has been summonsed."

"Won't the Goblins dispute this?" She asked worriedly.

"No," Devon assured her. "They will do what ever they have to, they are not a problem."

Rosalind smiled, "Devon, leave this to me." She patted his wrist turned on her heal and moved swiftly to Lord Aston and his wife; she whispered something to the man who nodded. She then moved to the second couple and finally to Charmaine. Half an hour later everyone had departed including the miffed Charmaine.

Devon looked surprised by pleased. "I don't know how, and I'm afraid to ask." He admitted.

"Just don't worry," she flung her cloak over her shoulder, "Devon, do tell Jareth he owes me…" she swept down the long stairs before vanishing.

"That woman knows how to make and exit," mused the Baron turning to look up to where the King's rooms were. He squared his shoulders and transported himself out of the foyer and into the King's rooms. He looked at his Uncle and whispered. "Is the healer finished?"

"No," Oberon said tightly. "Devon sit, we need to speak, and I have no wish to address you as you stand over me."

"Sorry, Uncle," self-assuredly the Baron took a seat opposite that of his uncle and gave him his attention. "You were saying?"

"Devon when I requested that you spend time with your cousin, I thought I made it clear that I expected you to…. Be a good influence upon him… not let him run amok." Oberon leaned forward. "Yet you did nothing…"

"I wasn't here," Devon interrupted. "When this Sarah made her first visit to the Kingdom I was at court." He spoke frankly and bluntly knowing the weight of the truth was on his side this time. "I was not aware of the entire Sarah incident for more than a year after it occurred."

"How long ago was her first visit?" Oberon asked. "Do you know?"

"Four years ago, Uncle." Devon stated quietly, he turned his head, "Ghillie Dhu is headed this way."

Oberon kept seated, while Devon stood to greet the healer. Oberon motioned the old one to be seated. "Well, how is my son?"

"Your guess would be as good a mine," Ghillie Dhu replied in a reedy tenor. "He is hardly forthcoming with any kind of information. However perhaps you can make him talk."

Oberon moved to the bed where his son lay staring at an orb. Looking at it, the High King at first saw nothing, and then upon closer inspection saw far too much. "You placed her dreams in this orb?" Jareth nodded, absently. Taking a seat on the bed the High King snapped his fingers in front of his son to gain attention. "Hear me boy, you've done something very very foolish!"

"It was my right," Jareth said defensively. "Payment for services rendered," his voice dripped with sarcasm.

Oberon pitied his childe, knowing the pain of rejection. "Did you hate her so that you'd wish harm to her?" The boy looked away, refusing to answer. "Jareth, do you know what happens to a mortal who is deprived of their dreams?"

"They wither and die," Jareth replied in a monotone. "What of it?" He looked at the orb, "I should care what happens to her?"

"I think you do care…" Oberon said softly. "Why else would you have made it possible for her not to forget?"

"She should have forgotten, and been forgotten," argued the dejected young man. "She should have curled up and dried up and blown away like the dust she's comprised of."

"You've been feeding off her dreams, and have learned so little," Oberon complained softly. "You have lived with her dreams for four years, do you know so little of the girl… Of Sarah Williams?"

Jareth looked at his father with a strange wicked gleam. "I know only this…She took up magic, and that makes her subject to the Eschant the same as I am… and now she's bound to me, as she should have been when she ate the peach."

Blinking Oberon rose from the bed; "What peach?"

"The one I gave my dwarf to give her…" Jareth smiled. "She escaped me once, but that's not going to happen again."

The High King turned to his nephew, seeing the guilt on his face he knew it was true. "You are my son," observed the King with criticism. "Well my boy, you know the Eschant, and you know the canons…. So…." He began to pace, his hands clasped behind his back. "For now, I will not interfere; I will not hinder you nor obstruct your hands. I will not hamper nor will I impede… I will remain neutral. However, should you decide that you've bitten off more than you can chew… you have but to ask for my help."

Jareth looked at the High King with disbelieve, not liking to be suspicious of his own father but history had taught him that the old man was a fox. "And you'll stay out of it, unless I call upon you?"

"I will not lift a finger for or against you." Oberon promised.

Devon also found this to be too good to be true. "He's up to something." He warned Jareth. "I've seen that look before."

"I don't care," Jareth knelt up on the bed, "I have your word, and old man…you'll not try to save the girl? No matter what I do to her?"

"No, and if she turns around and retaliates I won't lift a finger to help you either." Oberon quipped with a wicked smile.

"Ha, I've got her in the tower; she's not likely to be able to do more than hurl insults down on me." Jareth retorted sharply.

Oberon looked at the haughty young man, "Jareth you are my son, and I doubt you plan on leaving that lovely creature to rot in that tower… Zoltarie couldn't leave his _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_ in that tower, and I'll wager you won't either… You're my son… you have my pride and my….urges…" He placed his hands again on his hips as he spoke to his son. "You will want to possess her completely, and that my boy will be the beginning of your downfall… and it's already begun. First her dreams, then her body and then you'll want her very soul."

Pointing toward the tower Jareth growled, "She can rot in there! Look at what she did to me," he ripped the scarf from his throat. "She did this, old man, that little girl…"

"You took her dreams," Oberon accused.

"She dashed mine first!" Bellowed the Goblin King. "And now she pays." His voice went calm. "She can rot in that tower."

Amused and knowing better Oberon chuckled softly. "Oh son, you are already besotted with her." Closing his eyes, the High King drew in the scent that belonged to Sarah. He looked at his son. "You put enchantments upon her so no one could touch her. Now tell me you didn't plan on having your way with her."

"I never said I didn't intend to take pleasure from that witch, I said she could rot in the tower." Jareth leaned back exhausted. "Of course I intend to bed her." He wagged a finger at the High King. "And I have your word you'll not intercede on her behalf."

"I am the least of your worries, my boy." Oberon sighed. "You've gone and begun a repeat of history… I hope for your sake and that of the girls that it ends better for you than it did of Zoltarie… I was very fond of him… not half bad for a Goblin…." He mused softly.

Jareth frowned. "I have your word?"

"You have my oath," Oberon smiled. "Unless asked for I will not help." He turned to Devon. "Your mother would like you to call upon her… you've your own set of blocks to pick up…" Turning the High King moved toward Jareth's balcony. "I shall be on my way… I've a Kingdom to take care of… Oh and Jareth, about the Williams girl, a word of warning… the females in that family bite."

"Hold up old man!" roared Jareth. "How would you know that?"

Oberon stood near the door, and paused. "I'm the High King," he quipped forebodingly.

Closing his eyes quickly Jareth sniffed the air. "You old fraud!" he growled. "You went and took the mother…what I have the daughter so you decide to get some action going with the mother?" he was looking at his father with a look that accused and yet was admiring.

"Did you really believe I would ignore the cry of anguish?" Demanded the High King; "Surely you have more brains than that, laddie." The look of satisfaction was once more on the King's features; "Sauce for goose and gander."

"You randy old fox," Jareth muttered as he snickered. "So old man, was she good?" his voice dropped into a dark place.

"Better than you deserve to know," winked the father. "Remember what I said, they bite…"


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25. New wounds**

"You really believe he's got the girls mother?" Devon asked as he approached the bed.

Jareth looked up at him, smirking wildly. "It's not speculation; he's got the mother… I wonder how our good High Queen reacted to that bit of news."

Paying no attention to the way Jareth was trying to shift subjects and taking into account that he was not yet fully recovered from the attack and his wounds, Devon turned to his cousin with an uneasy gaze. "How are you feeling?" He asked honestly, no games, no façade.

"Tired," Jareth lay back, letting the pillows embrace his weight. "I'm very tired." Remembering his guest he shot up, "I've got guests."

Devon's hand pushed gently to King's shoulder halted him. "I've sent them home… told them there was a summons. If you're not seen for a day or two, everyone who's not in the castle staff with think you're watching a runner." He took a seat on the King's bed. "You had me worried for a few minutes there cousin."

"Stay here tonight," Jareth requested softly. "Please."

"I had not planned on going home," Devon said as quietly. "I have a feeling I'd receive a chilly reception there just now." When Jareth gave him a quizzical look, Devon explained. "Miss Cystennin is not overly fond of subterfuge or lies, and earlier today I used both."

"You like her," Jareth stated, his voice devoid of emotions.

"Yes," Devon acknowledged honestly. "I do like her."

"Guard your heart, Cousin!" Jareth closed his eyes. "These mortals have no idea how fragile a Fae heart is…."

"That may be our fault," Devon said as he rose from the King's bedside. "I'm going to bed." He moved toward the door that would lead to the corridor.

"Say good night to Charmaine for me," Jareth murmured.

"I sent her home," Devon announced as he placed his hand on the door knob. "I'll be sleeping alone…"

Jareth rolled on his side, "I don't believe it," he commented a bit more snidely than he'd have liked it to come out. "You actually sent Charmaine home, and are planning on being what… celibate until the mortal decides to allow you entry?"

Devon turned slowly, his face was not pleasant, nor was it jovial. "Cousin, I have no intentions of discussing my relationship with Miss Cystennin with you… You would never understand the complexities of it, you have too many prejudices. Some are justified, some are not." He experienced an urge to tell Jareth to take a flying leap. "Suffice it to say, for now I choose to sleep alone. Good night, cousin."

Jareth, lying on his side watched the man exit with as much dignity as he could muster. "Poor bastard," the King whispered to himself. "He's bewitched." Not bothering to remove his garments the King curled up in fetal position, drew long slow breaths, and went to sleep.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Sarah wondered why the Harpy chose to sit directly in the center of the window sill. It was the only window low enough for any view, but no one could look out the window with the Harpy sitting there.

Daisy looked at Sarah pacing the tower room like a caged cat. "Would you like a glass of wine to sooth you?" she asked.

"No," Sarah said curtly. "Thank you."

"It's not poisoned if that's what you're worried about," Della snickered wickedly.

Stepping in would have been easy, and Daisy could have but chose not to. Sarah was in all likelihood going to spend a very long time here in the Kingdom. Not all of the inhabitants were going to feel about the mortal girl the way most of the Goblin community did. Some were very likely going to display behavior like or worse than that of the Harpy's. Daisy saw something of a spark in Sarah, and knew the girl was going to need that spark and more in the days to come. She stepped back, and waited.

Sarah turned to the winged creature and glared. "Why don't you go fuck yourself?"

"Pretty talk," Della felt her wings twitch.

Sarah, now draped in a spare sheet, paced again. It was hard to ignore the creature with the wings, but she was going to give it a try. "You said your name was Daisy?" She addressed the Goblin. "Can you tell me if my friend Bryn is safe?"

Della nearly fell out the window in shock that the girl was concerned with someone out side of herself, but the Goblin moved closer. "Yes, your friend is safe and sound… and being treated decently."

Sarah looked at Daisy, and found the Goblin female had very honest eyes. "You're sure?"

"I have it on the best authority." Daisy assured her.

"Good… she doesn't deserve this…she tried to warn me, to stop me…" Sarah reasoned. "She does not deserve to be… harmed."

"She has not been," Daisy assured the girl once more. "The Baron, I am told is treating her as a house guest."

The weight of worry lifted from Sarah's shoulders. "I'm glad." She addressed the Goblin directly. "You were here when I visited the first time?"

"I was attached to the place, but had no direct contact with you." Daisy stated honestly. "The few who did, speak highly of you."

"The king said something while I was in the dungeon…something about shifting minds….and erasing memories…" Daisy nodded as Sarah spoke; "My friends?"

"Have no recollection of you," the Goblin felt a pang of regret at having to deliver that knowledge to the girl. "It was for the good of the Kingdom."

Sarah looked at the tower room, "I thought I destroyed the castle…"

"You only tore apart the puzzle room, but it's been mended…" Daisy stated with a playful gleam in her eyes. "Not to worry, that room was originally designed to pull apart if a runner reached it."

"So everything was as it was supposed to be?"

"No," Daisy divulged curtly. "Not everything." She motioned the pacing girl to be seated and then took a seat at the table opposite her. "The realm's King is a Fae, but he's been here so long he's more Goblin now than Fae… his pride is Goblin, do you understand?"

"No, not really."

"You do know he was… courting you during the hours you were in the Labyrinth, don't you?" Daisy asked wondering just how young the mortal had been.

"No he wasn't," Sarah denied coldly. "All he was doing was trying to stop me from getting to the castle to rescue my brother…"

Daisy licked her lips, placed an arm on the table and leaned forward. "Recue from what?"

Mimicking the other, Sarah placed her arm to the table and leaned forward. "From him, from becoming a Goblin…he threatened to turn Toby into a Goblin…"

"Really?" Daisy asked skeptically.

"He said and I quote. 'You have thirteen hours to unriddle the Labyrinth, before your baby brother becomes one of us. Forever.' Now if that's not a threat to turn someone into a Goblin I don't know what is." Sarah's voice was sneering and her lips were curling.

Daisy looked at her as if she were a child asking for a cookie. "You're right, you don't know." She stood up. "His majesty does not turn children into to Goblins…not that he couldn't, he just doesn't…Your brother would have become a subject of the Kingdom, and would have lived here as most mortals who are wished away do."

"He said…"

"He said become one of us forever, big deal…"Daisy retorted. "He never said he was turning the tyke… in fact all who witnessed the King's treatment of the boy will bear witness that he was if anything parental with the boy. Doted on him and saw to all his needs personally."

"He didn't belong here," Sarah growled. "I didn't belong here! It was all a mistake and that… King… of yours took advantage."

"Not from the reports I've read, and he could have…" Daisy countered. "In fact perhaps he should have… it would have saved us all a lot of time." The Goblin simpered at Sarah. "I read the account of the tunnel, Sarah Williams…"

"Nothing happened in the tunnel," Sarah denied too quickly; "Nothing."

"What happened in the tunnels?" Della's attention was now focused on the pair conversing.

"Nothing," Sarah repeated.

"You have no idea of the gossip his attention to you caused," Daisy teased. "Never before had he so much as spoken to a runner during the hours they are in the Labyrinth… with you, he not only spoke to you, but he kept a watchful eye on you as well so no harm would befall you."

"That's a lie!" Sarah rose so quickly the chair flew backward.

Della cocked her head to one side. "Why would he watch her? There's nothing special about her…"

"He was taunting me," Sarah protested.

The Goblin sat leaning over the table, looking at Sarah with a grin. "I've seen Hoggle's memory of the incident. Before it was erased, the King captured every bit of his memory of you in one of his little orbs…"

Sarah backed up a pace; she didn't want to remember that moment, the King, his presences in the tunnel. But with the gaze of the Goblin upon her and the knowledge that the moment was caught forever as it had happened in an orb, Sarah faltered and her mind went to that moment. Daisy had poured wine, and it sat in a pewter goblet on the table. Sarah reached for it and drank it down, hopping. It would drown out the thoughts she didn't want to face. A moment later the wine hit her like a brick wall and she felt herself collapse to the floor.

Daisy sighed, "I didn't think it would be so easy to trick her into drinking that wine."

"You drugged her?" Della asked in disbelieve.

"I administered a sleeping drought the healer left with me for her." Corrected Daisy lightly; "Let's get her to bed… the next few days are going to be long ones, and we are all going to need our rest." Daisy grabbed Sarah's feet as Della lifted her by the armpits. Moments later the girl was sleeping a peaceful if dreamless sleep."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Oberon found his isle at peace upon his return. In the distance he could hear the sounds of the court musicians playing softly. He walked slowly, hands clasped behind his back toward the private garden and his flowery bower where he had left Linda Williams to sleep her enchanted sleep. Looking up he noticed Linda was not the only occupant in his flowery bed. Tatiana was there as well. His wife was lying beside the pretty mortal actress, stroking her hair lovingly.

"What are you doing here?" He asked amused by the antics of his pretty wife.

"She's exquisite!" Tatiana asserted proudly, as if the capture had been her own; "Perfect in every detail."

Oberon knew there would be no getting rid of her, so he resigned himself to the fact that she would want details. He moved to the opposite side of the bower and crawled in beside the sleeping Linda. Looking down at her he too had to agree, she was exquisite. "Few mortals have the fire and appeal of this one," he commented placing a hand gently on the sleeping woman. "I doubt that she is fully mortal, however I know she is not of my seed."

"Still don't like tasting your own fruit?" teased the Fairy Queen.

"It's disconcerting," he conceded as he nestled into a spooned position. "I take it you approve."

"Whole heartedly," cooed the Fairy Queen. "What lovely children this one will make for us."

The High King smiled peacefully at his Queen. "Not only will they be lovely, but they will be full of fire."

"Pity you had to deprive one of your own," The High Queen murmured as she tool lay upon the bower, one hand draped over the actress. "I hope the young man will understand."

"If he's one of mine," Oberon muttered as he began to fall asleep; "It's doubtful."

Tatiana nestled in on the other side of the sleeping actress. "Matters not, she is here, and here she will remain…sleep well, husband."

"Sweet dreams, wife." Oberon sighed peacefully as he warmed to the idea of both wife and new paramour in his bower.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Ghillie Dhu sat in his hut, calmly writing down the facts as he knew them. He feared there was much yet he had not been made aware of and he was sure it would be difficult to treat both the King and his _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan,**_ if in that tower she was going to be kept. He wondered if his brother would consult with him. It was one option he intended to keep open to him. He looked up to see the eyes of the Lichen watching him as it often did at the bidding of a greater master than even the King. Long ago he'd learned to use invisible inks and once more he was glad he'd made it a common practice. "You won't learn a thing from me, creature," he said aloud. "If you wish to know the King's plans I suggest you go and ask him."

The Lichen eyes of the Labyrinth closed up, and the old healer took a deep breath. Long ago he'd learned to keep the secrets of he who king, not matter who he happened to be. He had seen the power of the living creature called the Labyrinth, and he had seen decline. The rejuvenation that had been experienced in the last few years was a hopeful sign. Still a good deal depended on the King being able to read the signs that were everywhere, and act upon them accordingly. Taking a _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_ was something the old man should have expected. After all most everything in the young King's career mirrored that of the last great Goblin King Zoltarie. He closed the journal, moved to place it in the open space of his library wall. He was not as familiar with the story of this king and the girl as he would like to be. He was sure a trip to the palace library was due.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Hoggle had been having sleepless nights now for three nights in a row. He wondered if he'd eaten some unripe fruit…or had the bean curd broth gone bad again? Or perhaps he'd not baked the bran bread long enough. What ever it was, he was feeling like something the cat had dragged in, and he hated that cat. He hobbled up the path to the gate to count the swarm. No sooner did it seem that he got rid of one, three more Fairies appeared to replace her. 'Little pests,' he thought to himself. 'Someday one of them will bite someone and then the fur will fly!'

Thinking a strange stray thought, he turned to look to the windswept hillside on the border lands of the Kingdom that formed part of the boundary separating Goblin territory from other Kingdoms. For a moment he thought he'd seen the King upon the hillside with the sun rising behind him. For an instant he saw the image of the King and a girl, standing looking down at the Labyrinth. Blinking, he looked again and saw nothing. He muttered to himself as he moved down the path to count the swarm.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Sir Didymus rose from his bed; another sleepless night had plagued the hapless knight. One of many these past months, and yet another reason he pondered about resigning his commission. He looked at the sunrise from the door of the cottage the King had most graciously granted him. He could hear his noble steed Ambrosius waking and needing his feed bag. Seeing to the beast before he took his own vittles, Didymus wondered if he were getting too old for this life. He had been plagued by strange dreams, and now sleeplessness.

He fed his steed and then went to his cottage to fix his own breakfast. He looked at the little cottage and cursed himself for not having taken a bonny wife when he was a younger man. Many a fair lass had caught his eye, and there were many who had seemed pleased when he'd paid court to them. Still none had ever captured his wild heart, he wondered if any woman in the Kingdom could. He stood for a moment outside his cottage, imagining a bonny wife cooking his vittles and children clamoring for his attention. Quickly he dispelled the dreaming, and went to fix his own meal, knowing his duties to the King came first.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Ludo awoke from his dreaming, upset and frightened, and did what came natural; He roared.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Jareth sat up, he'd heard the roar, and it had awakened him. He could feel disturbances in the fabric of magic. He felt the sense of despair of the valiant little knight, the despondency of the cowardly dwarf, and the anguish of the beast. More than any of the others, it was their feelings that plagued the King. He made a promise to himself to check on these three, and keep a closer eye on them now that_** She **_was back.

He'd left the bed, and walked to the balcony. The pain in his throat told him he was lucky to have survived the witches attempt to break the spell that held Sarah's dreams captive. Little did the mortal females know how crafty the Fae race could be. For Jareth had worked a special kind of magic when he'd harvested the dreams, keeping them captive in the crystal meant that only he could release them. His death would have meant death to Sarah as well; a cryptal smile kissed his full lips. The thought that he had tied himself to her in such a way pleased him to no end. He had known that Sarah would survive the initial strike against her; after all she was no ordinary girl. Telling Devon she'd most likely had died was a ruse, one that had worked to his advantage.

The golden rays of sunlight kissed the face of the Goblin King, bathing him in it's golden light as it had done time and again. But since one sunrise all others had paled in comparison. The soft winds touched his face with its tender fingers just as it had that morning. Long tendrils of angel fine hair floated wildly on the breeze as they had that morning he'd stood on the windswept hillside with the girl. He remembered the bravado with which she'd faced him, how it had given him a wicked thrill. She had been young, but not so young that she was not interested. Her wild heart had called to him long before she had wished the child away. He had been watching her, waiting, knowing that one day she's call out to him. That day had come and gone, and had left both of them wounded and battle scared.

He had not expected her to regret wishing the boy away, nor had he thought that she'd demand the right to win him back. That spirit was something he loved, and hated about the girl. Even now, yes, even now four years later and a new battle fought, he still loved and hated her all in the same breath. His vixen, his warrior Queen, his…

Movement at the window of the tower that stood along side the wide balcony drew his attention. He looked up with stormy eyes to see green jewels looking down at him. The sun bathed her face in pale light, and she looked more beautiful in her captivity than she had in the crystal ballroom he'd created for her. Their eyes met, and neither breathed for a moment. Jareth had known beauty, he'd taken the pleasures many beauties had offered him. All had left him with a cold void. Yet in this moment, this brief instantaneous moment for just a split second, his heart pounded in his chest wildly. Recognition filled her pale jewel eyes to overflowing, followed by dread and denial, and her face mirrored the way she'd looked at him with defiance in that tunnel.

He had not remembered taking a step forward, but the brush of the balustrade told him he had. Glaring up at her, he gripped the hand rail that decorated the top of the balustrade. She took an involuntary step back, a cry erupting from her mouth as if she could read his thoughts. He hoped she could, he wanted her to be fearful, to cower and beg for mercy that would not come. As she retreated into the dark chamber of the tower room, he smiled and spread his arms to change to the winged form that would give him access to her quarters. She was still backing away with wide eyes when he transformed inside the room.

"Leave us," he ordered not bothering to look at the guards, but expecting to be obeyed without question.

"No," Sarah implored, but knew her guards belonged to the King and she was not surprised when even Daisy made no effort to hinder the King. "No," she repeated still backing away.

Jareth's haughty expression held something more dangerous than before. He had been suggestive in the chamber where he'd been tortured and turned the tables and humiliated her. Now his expression was dark and lascivious as he cornered her. He place one arm above her as he had done when he'd cornered her in the tunnel. "Sarah," his voice was the only one she knew of that could make her spoken name sound either like a caress or a dirty suggestion. "How are you enjoying my Labyrinth's tower?" Cockily he raised a brow as he smirked down into her face.

Alarms going off and being ignored, the girl snarled at his with eyes glaring fiery coals. "It's a piece of cake you ponce!"

Jareth growled in the back of his throat, "I'd a feeling you were going to say that." He slammed his free hand to the wall beside her waist, drawing her to look. When she turned her head he moved forward to nuzzle her neck. She struggled against him as he knew she would, which inflamed his desire to have her even more. The scent of her was stronger now than it had been when he'd first encountered her that night four years ago. She had grown from a beautiful child into a bewitching woman. He grabbed her earlobe between sharp teeth and tugged.

Sarah had kept her hands at first planted to the wall. Then when he'd begun his assault on her throat, she'd raised one to push him away. When she had raised the other was a mystery to her. She struggled, as the teeth took her lobe she moaned, and damned herself for the thrill that ran through her with his intimate touch. "Don't touch me, you fucking bastard." She railed.

Pulling his head back he looked down at her with a victorious expression. "I'm the only one who can touch you," he reminded her sharply. "And touch you I will…" his hand came up from the place it was still resting next to her waist, it gripped the sheet viciously and without care if he'd caused her wounds pain, he ripped it away.

She would have liked to rip his eyes out of their sockets, and eat his beating heart. A roar came from her throat as she raised her hands in a claw like fashion to lung at the King's face and or throat. She was not sure which she had been aiming for, nor did she care what she connected with as long as she did some collateral damage.

Jareth roared at the moment she had, his lips curling and his lungs nearly exploding with in him. He gripped her hair at the nape of her neck and yanked, it was the only thing that had interrupted her attempt to assault his face. He pulled her around and flung her across the room, she landed on the ground, crouching like a wild cat. Her face flushed and her breathing was in quick pants. He didn't remember causing the whip to materialize in his hand, he didn't recall even flicking. He only knew he saw the tip of the whip kiss her skin as he heard the cracking sound and then her yelp. Again and again he felt his hand and wrist move; again and again the leather tip kissed the tender skin on the crouching female.

Sarah didn't remember lunging, she only knew that one moment she was crouched on the stone floor, and the next she was soaring though the space with her hands extended. Jareth had dropped the whip, his hands captured her wrists and she was thrust onto the narrow bed. "No," she screamed.

"Yes," he growled as he pinned her down, "Yes." The wounds of the piercing were not healed, the rings hurt as they were moved and the girl cried out in pain. "I'm here for one reason only," he declared as his clothes vanished, his powerful thighs pressed against hers forcing her to open her legs. "I've marked you as mine, and now I'm taking what belongs to me."

"No, you fuckin' son of a bitch, I don't belong to you! I never will …" she struggled through the pain, and became aware of his own dark intent. He was going to rape her, dry. "Damn you Jareth!"

"Damn us both bitch," he bellowed at her as he pinned her arms above her head with leather straps on the bed. He looked with satisfaction at the bindings, made sure they were secure before moving down to bind her ankles while he ignored her screams. Once she was tied down, with no hope of escape he knelt between her legs. Smiling he began to strip off his gloves; "Time to pay the piper, bitch."

"Stop, you don't want to do this," she pulled at the leather that bound her wrists. "Jareth let me go…."

Reaching forward he encircled her right breast with his left hand. He used his thumb to move the ring ever so slightly; she cried out nevertheless it was not a wild painful cry. On the contrary it was somewhere between a mewl and a moan. "I'm going to enjoy this moment Sarah," he said threateningly as he moved his fingers from her breast down to her pubic mound. He made and kept eye contact with her as his fingers spread the soft folds of skin to give him entry to her sex. "Please me and you shall be rewarded, displease me and you will suffer."

"Fuck off," she spat at him.

"Very well," He shoved one long finger deep into her warmth. She cried out, but her vagina clamped down on his finger tightly.

"Go to hell you wingless Fairy." She cursed him as he began to slowly move his finger in and out of her.

"I'll bet you've dreamed of someone being able to finger your pretty little moist snatch." He murmured in a sinister way. "I'll wager you even had to resort to fingering yourself to gain some kind of release," knowingly he slid a second finger in and heard her sharp intake of breath. "That's it baby, get hot; get good and hot… I want you dripping."

"Stop," she bucked her hips, and clenched her eyes closed. "Stop"

Another finger entered her now moistened orifice. "I wonder whose face is was that you imagined when you'd play with yourself."

Green eyes shot open, fire had replaced the black centers. "Not yours." She jeered.

His fingers sunk deeper, "Bullshit, princess."

Sarah bit down on her lower lip, wanting him to stop and silently praying he wouldn't. "Alright so you know how to finger fuck, big deal."

He felt the tremor, and knew she was close to an orgasm; he pulled his fingers from her, as they exited her body made soft sucking sounds. "Just a prelude, precious," he moved to center himself, his eyes still staring at hers. "Brace yourself babe," he warned threateningly with a mysteriously evil glint in his stormy eyes. "This is going to really _**hurt**_," he promised as he pressed the tip of his cock and the coil behind it at her damp opening. "Of that I'm going to make damn sure." Sarah screamed as he pushed into the tight opening. "You think that hurts, just wait… I want this to be an experience you never for get… I want you to remember who took your innocents." She tried to sink back from him, force her body deeper into the mattress. It only served to spur him on; he moved to place his hands on either side of her head. "Look at me," he roared. Her eyes met his, he wanted to see if she'd beg, and he prayed she would not. Green pale jewels focused on the stormy eyes that were boring into her, looking for a glimpse of her soul.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Della watched Daisy pace expectantly. "What are you doing?"

"Shut up," Daisy said coarsely.

Della opened her mouth to speak but a sound shattered the stillness of the early Goblin morning.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

The sound awoke Devon, who for a moment was paralyzed by its terror.

Far off in a quiet corner of the Kingdom on a quiet estate, Bryn sat up in bed and cried out in unison with the soul that was wounded.

Sir Didymus sat upon his steed, "My lady," he cried softly and then could not remember why he had said that.

Hoggle dropped his spray can, a word was on his lips, but remained voiceless.

Ludo in his dark forest den howled, and did not understand why.

Ghillie Dhu opened the door of his hut and looked to the tower, it had happened. The mortal girl the King had taken as his prisoner had become the King's _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_, his slave of bondage. The old man pulled on his outer robe and sauntered slowly toward the Labyrinth where he hoped to find answers to too many questions.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Jareth's hands were gripping her hips, dragging her forward as she fought to free herself from his impaling cock. "Going somewhere?" he growled boring deeper into her womb. "I'm not finished with you."

The searing and tearing pain began to ebb, and the girl let tears fall to lament her lost treasure. It could not be gotten back, not even if this bastard turned back time; "I hate you," she moaned.

"As I hate you," he said coldly as he began to deepen his strokes. His face only inches from hers. "No other man in this kingdom or any other will touch you now… you belong to the Goblin King, for his pleasure only."

"How can this pleasure you?" she demanded.

"Knowing that my touch is the only one you can bare…." He taunted with cold fury. "Knowing the only satisfaction you'll ever achieve is at my hand."

"You're a rapist!" she spat at him; "Nothing but a lousy rapist."

Jareth felt the twitch in his check, and the tightening of his jaw. "Is it true," the edge in his voice was now razor sharp. "That it's not really rape if I make you come?" He saw her panic, the façade slipped for only a moment but it was enough. "My, my, my…" he slowed the rhythm, began to caress her, tenderly drawing from her the response she wished she could deny him. His eyes kept hers locked, as he watched for signs of her weakening. Her jaw began to tremor, and her head tipped back, her back arched and her hips spread.

He had planned to pull out, to unload his seed on the side of the bed or on her beautiful belly. The moment she'd arched her back and spread her hip, that plan was abandoned. Bracing himself on his arms, his face inches from hers; he began to pick up the pace again. Their bodies were soon glistening in sweat, and both were groaning and grunting in unison. 'There's still time,' he told himself. 'I can pull out…I can pull out…' but he found himself diving deeper and deeper, pounding her into the mattress until she cried out as the climax swept though her like a storm. Clinging to her, he emptied himself into her until he was wrung dry.

Forcing himself, he pulled free of her and staggered away from the bed. He looked at her with contempt and scorn. "Your…King is…pleased." He said grudgingly.

"This meant nothing to you…." She winced back tears as he headed toward the window.

"Less than nothing," he taunted.

"Then why make love to me?" she whispered.

Jareth had his back to her, not able to look at her for fear she'd read his heart. "Love, oh really Sarah," he scoffed trying to sound like a bully. "This wasn't love, it was only sex." He transformed to the bird of the night and escaped out the window before she could protest or retaliate with a comment he could not fight.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Daisy watched the sky, saw the bird and the direction it winged off toward. She turned to Della; "Go take care of the girl, if she needs her wounds seen to get the healer."

"Where are you going?" Della demanded as she spread her wings and rose a few feet in to the air.

"Where I am needed," Daisy said as she hit what looked like solid rock. A small panel door opened, and the Goblin crouched down and moved into the castles' hidden passageway. Moments later she entered the circular throne room. A cask of ale went whizzing past her, smashing against the wall. Daisy watched as the King pitched what he could, and smashed what would not be moved. Moving forward she silently handed him objects as he went about the circular space. When he'd destroyed everything with the exception of his throne he collapsed on the dais steps. Daisy approach and knelt down beside him; Jareth looked up at her, tears streaking down his face as he fought to catch his breath.

"I'm supposed to feel better," he moaned. "Not worse."

Daisy put her hand to his shoulder, her eyes were not judging only consoling. "You have come so far, _**Jareth Tuatha Dé Danann Huukec Mec, **_did you really think you could resist going the rest of the way? Now, you are a real Goblin King."

"I forced her to respond to me, Daisy." He closed his eyes. "I wanted to hurt her, and I only hurt me."

"She hurts too," The little Goblin sighed. "She hurts too."

"I'm never going into that tower again," he lowered his head, closing his eyes.

"Yes you will," Daisy said with understanding. "You will not be able to help your self, Goblin King… She is…_** Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_, and only she will please you." Daisy stood up. "Come Goblin King, I will see you to your rooms." He looked at the Goblin woman, sniffling and wanting to resist, to protest. Daisy helped him to his feet. "I suggest you ask Lutin for the scroll about _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_, it makes for very good reading." She looked at him with admiration, "Perhaps before the rest of your subjects see you, you'd like to dress."

Jareth looked down; with dignity he turned his face to the Goblin woman. "Yes, that might be wise. You need not bother yourself further Daisy, I know a short cut to my room." He flicked his wrist, and then vanished.

Daisy looked about the room and walked calmly to the gong, she hit it once and the room filled with eager Goblins. "Clean this mess, boys." She commanded. "Replace all the broken furnishings and bring in a new ale cask."

Bodies began to rush about and the splintered wooden bits and pieces of furniture were removed. Daisy turned to Philo who entered once he was sure nothing else was being tossed. "I leave this in your good hands Philo; I must make sure Della has followed my orders."

Philo nodded, "I will see to it Captain." He addressed Daisy with respect. "You may go about your duties without worry about the castle."

"Good, if you need me, call." She paused and turned to the Steward. "Would you order a basket of food, I'm sure the birdbrain didn't think to bring food up to the girl… and I doubt she would like what Della finds appetizing."

The Steward bowed, and excused himself for a few moments, returning with a large hamper of food that he handed over to the Goblin. She tucked it into her arm and exited the throne room. "Daisy," Philo followed her out of the throne room with concern on his wise Hobgoblin face. "How do you intend to get up to the tower? Are you thinking of calling the Harpy down?"

"I won't need to," She gave a sharp whistle and a winged creature of the Labyrinth soared down to her. She mounted it, and looked at Philo, "You didn't see this," she winked at her long time supporter.

"You are more and more like your father," Philo chortled. "Give my regards to him."

"I shall, Uncle." She used her heels and knees to guide the winged creature; "Until we are together again… safe keeping."

"Safe travels, Daisy." Philo hurried back into the castle not wishing to allow the lower caste Goblins too much freedom.

Daisy entered the tower room with the hamper of food only to find Della perched on one of the chairs taunting the young woman still bound to the bed. "I thought I told you to take care of the girl and to see to her wounds."

"She has no new wounds," Della said looking with disgust at the food that Daisy had returned with. "You don't honestly expect me to eat that do you? It's all dead…"

Shaking her head, Daisy set the hamper down on the table and waved the Harpy off as she began to unfasten the binding restraints on the girl. "Go hunt something down, birdie…"

"Lovely... I hope that fool goat herder is still in the southern pasture." She leapt out the window and spread her wings to catch the down draft.

Daisy inspected the girl's wrist; they were rubbed, but not bruised. "He was careful, you should be grateful."

Sara rubbed her free wrists as she sat up, waiting for Daisy to release her feet. "Grateful? For what, for being molested, and raped? For being tied like a…."

"Like a _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_," Daisy retorted without spite. "That is what you are, what you were once is no longer true… you are the King's Slave of Bondage." She pointed to the basket. "I've brought you something to eat and drink." She looked at the disheveled girl. "Perhaps you'd like to bathe first, and pull yourself together. We can talk over the repast," the Goblin motioned the girl to follow her. "Permit me to act as your lady's maid." Sarah stood on legs like jello, but she did make it to the bath where Daisy drew a tub of hot water. The Goblin guard watched the girl descend into the warm swirl of water. Once the girl was in the waters Daisy bowed to her again. "I shall give you a few moments to wash and compose yourself."

"Why are you being nice to me?" Sarah asked with suspicion.

"I'm not," Daisy said respectfully. "I am behaving as all will toward the _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_, with your new title comes the benefit of station."

"You said the Tag…Tagag…" she began trying to say the goblin word. "You said that meant Slave of Bondage… how can that be as respectful Station?"

The Goblin woman tossed back her head and laughed aloud, it was a gay and wonderful sound and it filled the chamber. "You must stop thinking like a mundane mortal, you are now a Goblin citizen, and you will live by our morays not the mundane." She sauntered toward the drawn curtain. "Enjoy your bath, my lady."

Sinking into the bath up to her shoulders, Sarah muttered to herself. "Their all fucked in the head here; every last freakin' one of them." She carefully washed her still tender parts. "And he's the worst of them all." She scrubbed patches of skin that were not tender. "I'm going to get even with him, if it's the last damn thing I do!"

Daisy took the wine from the basket, poured herself a goblet and made a silent toast to the woman behind the curtain.


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26. Holding the truce**

Devon was thinking of Bryn when he joined Jareth for breakfast. He looked at the flushed skin tones on his cousin's face; "Someone's been busy I see," he said with biting wit.

"One must strike while one's iron is hot," Jareth said without looking up. He was intently eating his breakfast and going over notes that Philo had given him on household needs. Feeling out of sorts and put out Devon took his seat with a grim face. Jareth looked over at him, and commented quietly. "You look like hell."

"Thank you," his cousin said placing his napkin in his lap. "I feel it too."

"Why don't you go home," suggested the King giving the matter some thought. "I think I can handle the rest of my week now."

Devon leaned on the edge of the table eagerly. "Are you sure? I would not wish to leave you in a lurch," his eyes said differently.

Jareth nodded, "I'm mending, and there's no formal court for a week or two… mostly office stuff. If you could check in every day or so, I'm sure I can handle the rest." He waved his cousin off. "Go; play with that pretty little playmate of yours…."

Devon rose, not waiting to hear more. "I'll see you in a day or two." With a flick of his wrist he was gone.

Jareth smiled as one of the little elf maids came in with Devon's breakfast. "Lord Devon has decided to break his fast in his own home, Delssia. I however would love some more toast." He watched the maid blush and give him a curt bow.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Daisy was busy setting food on the table when Sarah now fully refreshed and bathed, entered from the curtained off area. She was draped again in a sheet, but this time her hair was pulled up and held back with a tortoise shell comb. Even with out makeup, her appearance was startling.

Daisy held a goblet of wine out to her, which Sarah refused. "It's a bit early in the day for me," she said in a gentle rebuff.

The Goblin snickered. "What would you prefer to drink at this time of day?"

"I'd kill for a cup of coffee," Sarah confessed. "However I'd accept a cup of nice hot tea in its place. I doubt very much that coffee is a common beverage item here." She sat down at the little table quietly.

"There you'd be wrong," Daisy stated. "I'll remember that you like coffee and have some brewed for you. It became a staple of our kingdom a few decades ago. You see, my lady… goblins not only mimic mortals, we parallel them. You will find many of the same foods in our world that were popular in yours."

Skeptically Sarah looked over at the Goblin who was taking a seat opposite her. "You're telling me there's some kind of… commerce trade system?"

"Not exactly, no…." replied the woman of the Labyrinth Kingdom. "But because there's been, shall we say traffic back and forth; there have also been samplings of things brought here. Some things long before the veil was drawn that separates our worlds." She cut cold meat and cheese and a slice of crusty bread and handed the plate to Sarah. "I think you'll find most Goblin Fair to your liking."

Sarah looked at the meat, gave it a sniff and looked over at the Goblin. "Mutton?"

"Yes, and that's a fine farmers cheese, and the bread is made from wheat grown just outside the City. The wine that you refused is from the King's own vineyard." Daisy was proud of her Kingdom and it came across clearly as she spoke.

"I'm sure the wine is very good," Sarah said trying to mend a fence. "I just don't imbibe so early."

"I shall remember that," promised the Goblin female soothingly. Sarah took a bite of the bread and cheese and surprisingly enough found they were not only edible, but delicious. The mutton she was a bit more hesitant about. Daisy snickered. "Mutton not a breakfast favorite?"

"I've never really cared for the taste," Sarah confessed feeling strangely at ease with her guard.

"I understand," Daisy opened the hamper again and removed a bowl of ripe berries; "Perhaps some of the last of the season's fruit?"

In the bowl were large red ripe sweet strawberries, and succulent juicy raspberries as well as some others that Sarah did not recognize. "They look delicious," Sarah said eagerly as she plucked a ripe strawberry from the group. Her lips caressed the berry as she sunk her teeth in; soon juice was covering her mouth. "Oh God," she moaned blissfully. "They are good."

Daisy leaned back in her chair once she'd finished her portion of the meal, and sipped her wine. "You must give me a list of the foods you prefer," she suggested. "That way I shall be able to be sure the hampers always carry what you will eat. Keeping you healthy is part of my duty."

The meal had been so pleasant that for a time Sarah had forgotten she was a prisoner and that Daisy was her guard. "It's all just a job to you, isn't it?"

The Goblin looked at the young not so mortal female and allowed her face to become serious. "No, not all of it," she placed her goblet down. "I am a guard, and I serve my King… but I am a Goblin first. And my first duty is to the Kingdom, and my people. I am honored to be in the service of our King. Honored to be picked to guard his _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_, and I take my duty seriously." She looked at Sarah with trepidation. "You don't yet know all that has taken place… and so you are at odds with the reality of your station. I understand, and I can give you time. It will be my duty to teach you the ways of the people to whom you now belong."

"I don't belong to anyone," Sarah protested. "I was taken captive when….that fruity Baron and you two came running to the rescue of that lecher King."

"We didn't actually come running," Daisy snickered. "You see we'd been watching for almost the entire time."

"You watched me…do…" Sarah rose from the table, disgusted. "That's twisted… you just said you are honored to serve your King and yet you allowed me to…"

"Play a very strange foreplay game with him, yes… yes we did." Daisy stood as well, her hand went to her hilt. "It was not until you actually put the King in danger that we were moved to act against you." Her stance was poised, but not threatening. "The moment the King claimed you, you became one of us… forever."

'_**You have thirteen hours in which to solve the Labyrinth before your baby brother becomes one of us … forever…such a pity…**_' the words echoed in Sarah's head. "He kept me here for more than thirteen hours… and didn't allow anyone to run for me..."

"You were not wished away," corrected the guard gently. "You were and are the spoils of a misguided war." Inquisitively Daisy prodded. "Just what was your plan? I know something of what the third witch left behind had wanted to do…it was written in her eyes… but you…You are very hard to read_**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_, and I should like to understand you better."

Sarah appeared to be taken aback, "I don't know…" she answered in a quiet almost child like manner. "I wanted my dreams back… Lilith said the rites in that musty old book would help… I thought if I made Jareth as miserable as he'd made me, he'd… surrender them to me…"

Heaving a weary sigh, Daisy looked at the other with sympathy. "You really don't know much about the Fae, or the Goblin King, do you?" When Sarah shrugged Daisy went on. "Our king is Fae born, that makes him, arrogant and somewhat spoiled, and that works for us. He has always with the exception of one time; put the Kingdom first because it was good for him to do so. We Goblins have learned to live with the Fae rules, but this one… this one in many ways has so embraced us that he's become one of us." Daisy held both hands up. "Let me explain to you a few important facts. First, Goblins are not good or bad; we are both…much like humans or any other race are both… But when we are denied, or refused or rebuked, we retaliate… He retaliated… You refused him, more than once during your run, and he demanded payment for the services rendered…. Your run in the Labyrinth was a service, not a privilege. Those who wish a child away have a right to demand a chance to win the child back, true…but the right comes with a price tag…"

"No one ever said anything about a price tag," Sarah protested hotly. "Even in the book!"

Daisy scoffed at her, "Sarah Williams, some things are 'you understood'."

Sarah, shocked by the Goblin's frankness went silent.

"He took more than your dreams," Daisy continued. "He took your first real Kiss… stole it from your sleeping lips… and sealed both your fates." Sarah turned away. "You belong to the King, your attack on him created the opening by which he could claim you. Had you not made war on him, he would have been happy to content himself with your dreams."

"Content himself with my dreams?" Sarah looked at her guard. "What exactly does that mean?"

Daisy who knew more than most of the guards in the palace was completely frank. "He has used your dreams as an entertainment, shunning the company of women who would seek to give him more physical pleasure. He preferred to be pleasured by your dreams."

"That's sick," Sarah groaned.

"That's Goblin," corrected Daisy. "He could not have your body, he satisfied himself with your essence."

Shuddering and feeling scandalized the girl began to rub her bare arms. "So he's been… what, fucking my dream persona?"

"I would say it was mutual," Daisy quipped coolly.

Denial, a state of mind that Sarah excelled at, leapt forward. "Don't kid yourself," she snapped. "I would never have any thing to do with that baby snatching, over sexed prancing ponce!"

'Me thinks the lady doth protest too much,' Daisy hummed to herself.

Sarah went on defensively. "I was never once attracted by him during that hellish time I spent in the Labyrinth…"

"Not once?" Teased Daisy lightly; "Not even when you stood with him on the hillside out side the gate? Or when he came to you in the tunnels? Or perhaps when he swept you into his arms to dance? Not even once?"

"Go to hell," Sarah groused and moved toward the window. Her feelings were at war, and she didn't want to face this. "He stole my brother," she said more to herself than to the guard. Needing to remind herself of whom the King really was. "He stole my dreams and maimed me, and now holds me captive… and raped me."

Daisy knew the Girl was not ready to face more truth and changed the subject. "Perhaps we should work on that list of foods."

Sarah leaned into the window frame. "I'm not attracted to him."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Bryn was sitting forlornly in the garden when Devon arrived. He could tell she was upset, and he could not blame her. She looked up as he approached, stood and with a gentle sob moved to his open arms seeking comfort. Gently he soothed her. "Bryn, it's not our war…" He reminded her softly. "You can feel bad for your friend… but remember it's not our war."

"He hurt her.." she looked up at him, "I heard her…scream of pain…."

"He hurt himself as well," Devon stated wisely. "And both of them pay for the stubbornness they both possess. Even the High King tired to warn him…"

Bryn pulled free of the embrace. "The High King? You mean High King as in Oberon? Why would he concern himself with this… dispute?"

"Jareth is one of his own, his son." Devon said softly. "One does not mess with the son of Oberon without the High King sticking his nose in."

"Oh poor Sarah," fretted Bryn lightly. "She's into this up to her neck… and no one to help her."

Devon shrugged, "I warrant Sarah Williams is not as easy to damage as she looks." He held a hand out to the girl. "I have yet to break my fast, have you? No, well then let us go in and have something to eat and just talk."

"Baron, Sarah will not surrender to Jareth." Bryn warned.

"Surrender is the last thing Jareth wants, whether he knows it or not." Devon tucked her arm into his. "Now, tell me how you've spent your time."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Linda move though the veil of sleep and slowly batted her eyes open. Instantly she was aware that she was between two curled, and very warm bodies. She was also aware that one was male and the other not. Turning to the feminine and very womanly body beside her she looked to see who it was. She didn't recognize the features, but she recognized the scent of flowers and knew she was still in that flowery bower of Oberon's.

Her movement awoke the woman beside her, eyes the color of autumn skies opened and showed delight. "Good morning," the cherry voice belonging to the strange woman greeted.

Linda didn't smile; "We'll see how good," she muttered trying to pull the milkweed sheet about her nakedness. "Who are you?"

"I'm Tatiana, Linda, and I guess I'm your hostess…" the Fae woman quipped lightly.

Swallowing the lump in her throat that had gathered, the actress looked at the stranger with alarm. "Tatiana… as in Fairy Queen?"

"That is but one of the titles I wear, but yes." She leaned on her elbow and gave the actress a simpering smile.

Placing a hand to her eyes Linda groaned, "I'm not modern enough for this situation," she took a deep breath. "Look toots, much as I appreciate the …" she paused and started over. "I'm really not into threesomes."

Tatiana blinked, looked over at Oberon who was beginning to waken. "What's a threesome?"

"Group sex," he stretched then smiled down at both women. "Ménage à trois, dear."

"Oh," Tatiana looked less than shocked as she looked back at the actress. "Not to worry, I prefer male lovers."

Linda felt trapped between these Fae. "You're both cracked."

Tatiana giggled. "You'll get use to us."

"Want to bet," Linda retorted.

Hugging the mortal female, the High Queen giggled again. "Oh I already adore her wit and fire, Oberon."

"Yes," He said as his hand began to wander under the sheet.

"Hands off!" Linda slapped away the hand moving over her. "I'm not staying…I've got a life and a boyfriend; remember?"

Obstinately the hand returned this time becoming immobile. "You don't need a boy, my pretty, you need a man."

"I'll pick my own playmates, thank you!" snapped Linda continuing to struggle to free herself from the two Fae. "Back off!"

Oberon looked over at his wife, "I think perhaps my paramour would be more comfortable if you were not present while I plunder her treasure trove." He suggested quietly, his hand still moving over the struggling actress. "Why not have a nice dip in the pond and we shall join you later."

"I'm not joining anyone anytime!" Linda, now violently struggling, roared. "I'm going to find my daughter, and pound some sense into that dunder headed Goblin King."

"Your daughter is out of your reach," Oberon said as he waved his wife off. When she'd vanished he rolled on top of Linda, pinning her down. "Why fight what gives us both pleasure?"

"I don't have time for your sexual games, High King." She addressed him formally trying to ignore that her body was responding to his.

"Linda," he murmured enticingly.

"Oberon, please," she pleaded.

He paused, took a deep breath and slowed his assault. "Dearest heart, I have seen the Goblin King whist you slept, and I fear I know a bit more of these sordid tales than you do. I will tell you that your daughter is alive, but you are going to have to give up any plan of rescuing her… she has been taken prisoner under an article of war."

"What war?" Linda gasped, "I was not aware of a mortal, Fae war."

"You were not made aware because your daughter knew you'd stop her." He nuzzled her neck letting the soft hair of his beard tickle her. "Sarah declared war on the Goblin King and lost the battle…she is now his trophy and accolade."

"And what am I?" She asked stiffly.

"My beloved paramour… and hopefully a mother of one of my children." He smiled at her gently. "Come, love, give in."

"You don't fight fair," she sighed.

"I'll make a truce with you, my beauty." He offered tenderly. "And I will promise to keep an eye on the Goblin situation for you."

"But Jeremy…." Linda complained softly. "He loves me… and I..."

"Have refused his proposals," Oberon stated firmly. "Linda, I know you care for the lad… but he's not enough…nor was the mortal you wed… I my darling am." He kissed her eyes softly. "Tell me you didn't feel completely satisfied." He prodded.

"Old goat," she refused to look into his eyes.

"Yes, my dear." He found that she was not resisting his advances, and pressed his knees to hers, spreading her legs to give him entry. Cupping her derrière with one hand to tilt her hips to greet him, he sighed contentedly as he slid into her like a sword into its sheath. "By the Seven Hills of Rome, woman… you are a delightful little creature, and a lovely fit."

"You are a horndog," she muttered. "An over sexed timeless horndog."

Giving the rounded cheek in his cupped hand a tender squeeze the King snorted. "Thank you."

"I was not giving you a complement," she complained.

"Weren't you?" he teased as he began to thrust into her. "It sounded like one."

Surrendering and yielding to his prowess, Linda began to enjoy the skills honed over many centuries. "mmmmmmmmmmm," she murmured enthrallingly. "I could really get off on you…." She caught her breath as he moved deeper and growled in her ear. "Oh God, that's so good."

"As I said," he crooned having found the right rhythm to draw her into his game. "You need a man… And I am just the man for the task."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Devon excused the girl and watched as she made her way up to her room with the excuse of freshening up; he turned to find his housekeeper coming toward him. "Let me guess, the mortal girl is using the books in my library to find a means of escape."

"Sir, did you expect her to?" the woman looked perturbed.

"Yes, in fact my dear Mrs. Finch I'd have very disappointed in her had she not." Devon smiled gently. "She considers herself a prisoner… and she's not really far off the mark. However I have no intentions of allowing her to escape." He signed softly. "Bryn is not aware that there are wards that she can not master. Her magic is infantile compared to mine." Standing up he instructed the woman who kept his home as he liked it. "She's free to read all she wants… however if you find her trying her hand at magic you are to alert me."

"Yes, sir." Bobbed the woman as she exited the breakfast room.

Devon looked up toward the ceiling, he was pleased, and it gave him an excuse to 'hold it against' her some time in the future. A man could never have enough ammunition in the constant battles of the sexes.


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27. The witch becomes **_**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_

Jareth had not planned on reading the scrolls, he thought he had more than his fill of information on _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_, if anything he thought he had a bit too much information. Still, later that morning after he'd taken the woman, he found himself drawn toward the domain of his scribe and record keeper. Lutin it appeared was expecting him. The Hobgoblin bowed as he entered the chamber, he was placing a series of scrolls on the table for the King to inspect.

"What is all this?" Jareth asked trying not to sound too interested in the answer.

"The private diary of King Zoltarie, these are all the notes and passages dealing solely with _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_." Lutin stated quietly and respectfully. "I am at your disposal my King." He bowed and moved away for the King to have piracy. "I've laid them out in the order they were written, Sire."

Jareth nodded absently as he picked up the first scroll, nonchalantly. He unfastened the tie and let it open. Reading while he stood, as if he were going to place the scroll down and leave. He read the fist lines of the scroll and experienced a strange feeling of deja vu.

'_**This night brings me no joy, the raid cost me the lives of Goblin and Elf. Good men, true men of the Fairy Realms. This famine has cost us more than lives; it has cost us our culture. Even now we bring mortal humans over to this side to rebuild bloodlines. If it were not for the petty wars they make upon each other, our mission would fail.**_'

Lutin politely pulled the chair out for the King, whom he'd been watching from a respectful distance. The King took the seat, unaware of the one who'd pulled it for him. It was obvious the King was enthralled by the words he was reading.

'_**This night we've taken more than our share of prisoners, but one, one will not go upon the blocks. She will be my payment for the services I've rendered to the efforts to keep our kind alive.**_' Jareth read the words and understood the feeling of the writer. They were not words of triumph; no they were a statement of fact, but not victory. '_**She is fire to my ice, and her blood calls to mine in spite of the fact that we are not of the same kindred…. Never have I seen such pale jewel eyes.**_' The Goblin King lowered the parchment scroll and blinked, his breathing labored. "Lutin," he called out. "See that I am not disturbed."

The Scribe bowed and promised he'd see to it that no one, regardless of station would disturb his King.

'_**She is as wild as the highland clans she is bred from,' the king wrote. 'Proud, perhaps prouder then even Oberon's haughty Queen. One can not help but be drawn toward her fiery heart. Braver than some men, as we raided her village, she alone stood with drawn sword to protect a hut of children, none of which had been born of her womb. It was amusing to cross blades with her even though she stood not a chance. I had never thought a female born of any other race could stir me, yet here in this wild wilderness, this half grown human female, making an effort to protect the younger children fired my soul. It was a pity to have to strike her down, perhaps that is why I but dazed the girl. When by rights I should have killed her.'**_ Jareth read the scroll, carefully. He paused and went back wondering why he'd not read these scrolls before this moment.

'_**Humans are now a tradable commodity, and highly prized by many of the Underground races. Fae keep some as pets and others to breed.'**_ The words further down in the scroll had caught his attention, and he pondered on them. He recalled Oberon making mention of a great famine, and also the cursed virus that had swept through the Fae community. It troubled him greatly that Fae would barter for mortals… He had understood that the Fae had captured their own mortals by beguiling and bewitching them… now, he was not so sure.

Moving back to the first mention of the girl he read again. '_**Never have I seen such pale jewel eyes,' **_and continued to read the description that Zoltarie had written down._** 'Her hair is long and thick, and dark as a raven's wing, yet there are highlights of red and gold when the sun shines on her. Her face is as comely as one of the Fae, wide eyes of the shade of green that is the same as the pool of water that is hidden under the Goblin Castle. In there depths I find blues and golds flecked and ringing. Even the blue pattern on her face can not mar her beauty, in fact if anything, it adds to it…. She is a warrior, and only a fellow warrior can appreciate her. She is young and her mouth has not been used, I intend to teach her the uses of such full and desirable lips.**_' Jareth shivered, as if a goose had crossed his grave. Zoltarie could have been describing his Sarah. He read on. '_**It was too easy, the taking of this little village. It was as if the mortals had abandoned these to us in hopes of appeasing our… appetites. I over heard one of the children ask if they were going to be eaten… who makes up these tales of horror to tell to little children, I wonder. Too late we realized we were being set up for a trap. I blame myself for not seeing the village was too easy to plunder. It is only by the grace of the Goddess **__**Morrigan that our raiding party was only the scouting party. Had the main force of my guards not been lying in wait, my own life would have been forfeited. As it is we lost a good number on both sides. Men of the village and women were slaughtered. Those who survived will become part of a slave labor force that will aide in the rebuilding of the Underground Kingdoms. We've taken everything this village had to offer; food, crops, livestock and humans. Anything that was deemed of use was taken, including some of the buildings which were dismantled and transported to the other side of the mists. I had to order my Goblins not to drink of the ales they found for fear they would drink themselves into a stupor before we could finish our grizzly tasks.**_

_**The humans that were still worth taking were bound and shackled, and led on the march through the veil of mists. What was not was left behind to wither and die. The children were carried off by Goblins, squealing louder than the hogs and pigs we confiscated. She did not squeal, nor did she go easily. It took three Goblins to hold her down so her hands could be bound, and when her legs were shackled, she kicked one of my person guards in the jaw loosening six of his teeth. She hissed and spit like an asp, and the little witch spat curses at my men as they dragged her still struggling away. Before they reached the portal, I stopped them to order them to deliver her to my castle and not the holding pens where the auctions will take place.'**_

Jareth looked at the date on the scroll, it was before he'd been born by a good many years. Even by Fae standards and he wondered if there were Fae scrolls in his father's library to back up the claims of this Warrior King. He knew there were things Oberon didn't discuss about that dark time, when the virus had nearly stuck down the Fae, and the Famine had decimated the Underground Kingdoms. He read on.

'_**Curses on the heads of those who defy me, curses on the heads of those fools who were turned to traitor and aided the girl, and all shall pay dearly.' Jareth paused to read the date; it was only a few days after the raid. He went back and picked up the thread of thought. 'The she witch was taken to the slaves' quarters in the Goblin Palace; one would have thought she'd be grateful to still be breathing, but no, not that one. She set about beguiling a dwarf,**_' Jareth put the scroll down. A dwarf? How odd that history could be repeated, he mused. '_**The fool led her into the Labyrinth, and it took the better part of a day, almost eleven hours to locate her.' **_Jareth's frown deepened coincidence?_** 'The little fool had thought to escape me, and with the aid of the fool dwarf she nearly had. I have ordered her to be held in the dungeon for now, and the fool who aided her has been whipped and removed from the castle staff. He will have to forage in the woods for a time, which should teach him who is King!'**_

_**'We have auctioned off the humans today, while it was a poor hauling after the raid, it was lucrative. Six of the men fetched twenty kopecks apiece; the rest of the men took ten to fifteen kopecks apiece. Three of the breeding women fetched better, at forty kopecks apiece, a good price for Celtic breeder. The rest of the breeders, eight in all took a lower price of only thirty some odd kopecks. Three women beyond breeding age, but good healthy stock and hard workers by the looks of them, fetched nearly thirty kopecks apiece. As usual the Fae were the ones to place the highest bids on the youngsters. Had I not visited the holding pen, one child would not be gracing a Fae home, as it is the boy will grow up in my service. **_

_**I ordered the keeper to bathe and supply garments to the children, knowing that clean children sell better than dirty ones. From the hut there were about a dozen that had been captured, all of various ages but none but the one left to guard them were reaching maturity. Most of them were very young, tots and toddlers. A few adolescences, but still young enough to train and mold, and all were in relative good health. Celts are in the habit of seeing to the condition of their offspring, and that is one reason I have made it a habit to raid the Clans. Their race is spirited and robust, and they adapt well to the changes from that world to this. **_

_**I do not make it a habit to visit the pens before an auction, and I will rectify that oversight. For I now realize I have allowed some of the best stock to be bought out from under me. Why should the Fae or the Elves out benefit the Goblin Realm? We put more on the line than any other race, and the monetary profits are not enough. Today I went on a whim down to see the stock keeper, and to inspect the children. I had only a mere glimpse of them in that dark hut. Celtics breed a handsome child, spirited, with honest faces and brave hearts. Some of the children had the burnished red gold locks that are prized by some of the Fae races. They fetched a high price indeed, for they will be raised to breed with Fae, and increase the population that was decimated by disease. The ones with dark tresses will be bought up by elves who prefer to keep them not for breeding but for labor. And then there were the children with golden hair… fair as the sun shinning in the sky. There were three two girls and the boy, the girls were bid on by Elf and Fae alike, and one went to each. **_

_**The moment I spotted the lad in the holding area I knew he was for me. His eyes were not full of fear or hesitation. When I drew near the bold little imp came forward and looked me in the eye. Though he is but a tot, not yet weaned, I was taken with him. The keeper was instructed to turn him over to me, and I carried my little prize out of the holding pens. One of the Hobgoblin maids has offered to see to his needs for me, and I will house him in my wing. The rest were auctioned off swiftly, wisely I have always made sure the adults are first to be auctioned, and then removed before the children are marched out to be viewed. Nothing went amiss; the auction went smooth as Elven silks. Our expenses have been covered and a small but respectable profit has been recorded by our treasurer. New recruits have come forward from several races to replace the fallen and the injured.'**_

Jareth read the next entry without surprise. '_**The girl has again tried to escape. This time she made it as far as the forest, and has actually tamed one of the beasts that dwell there. In order to insure that she does not escape me again I've ordered a tower to be constructed. When she was returned to me, she was kicking and screaming and delightfully full of fire. It was a shame to have to publicly whip and humiliate the creature. However I am King and I will not be defied.**_' Jareth snorted knowing exactly how the other had felt. '_**Her garment was already in tatters from her run, and it tore away easily in my hands as she hung suspended from one of the rafters of the dungeon. Her skin was much softer than I'd have expected it to be, and unmarred. The shock registered in her beautiful eyes had told me that she had never been without garments before a male. Her innocence was like a heady libation and I found myself intoxicated. **_

_**I have never thought that one of that race could fire my loin, and yet this leggy girl, this untried calf aroused me unlike Goblin or Elf ever has. I found it difficult to keep her innocent, for I intend to take my time in deflowering this Celt. Her skin was soft as the petals of the flower they call a rose, and her anger like the thorns of that plant. Unheeding the protests that came angrily from her sweet lips, I stroked her becoming acquainted with her very pleasing curves. Before the company of my guards I humiliated the girl, and demonstrated who was master.'**_

Jareth lowered the scroll once more, thinking to himself this was strangely not unlike his reaction to having been held captive and tortured. While he held all three women captive it was only Sarah he took his anger out on. Zoltaire's description of the young woman in his hands could easily have applied to Sarah, right down to the becoming acquainted with her pleasing curves. Truth be told he'd taken a great deal of person pleasure in the humiliation of the mortal who had defied and also rebuked his advances. It had been glorious to touch and tease, and even to taste her. It had been wonderful seeing the Greek girl cringe and struggle as he had caused Sarah to writhe just before he'd forced her to climax while her companions watched helplessly. Even now the thought of that moment and the moment he'd spread her firm buttocks to accept the presence of his coiled cock gave him a deep and satisfying glow. He returned to reading, the next passage was a few days after the public whipping.

'_**The tower is nearly complete and it is a good thing, for the girl known as Saraid to her people has mounted yet another escape from the dungeon. If it were not so much trouble, I would have to admire her determination.' **_Jareth chuckled softly, thinking of his little spitfire_**. 'My alliances with magic users has been practical and most useful, for I have been able to barter with a wizard for wards that will keep unwanted visitors or would be rescuers from the tower keep. I had the tower constructed with no stair to the upper level room. The only means of entry is that of a large window, and I've employed the aid of Harpies to act as guards for my prisoner knowing that they alone will remain unmoved by her skillful use of her guile. For lower level Goblins are too easily moved by her as was the dwarf, and forest beast. This time it was a lower level Goblin she tricked into aiding her in her efforts to be free. Foolish girl for now I have been forced to take actions that have marred her. I was forced to send for my metal smith, and my wizard, for I will not be defied, not even by this daughter of a Celtic warrior leader. Her will is strong, mine is stronger. I have pitted my Kingdom against hers, and though she is strong, I must remain stronger. Pity to break such fiery spirit…**_

_**In the deepest bowels of the dungeon, with her hands bound above her and her legs also bound I called for a Harpy to pierce her skin and the wizard placed the unbroken rings with in her nipples and in her nether lips. Her howls were like music to my ears, never have I heard so sweet a song. Had she begged for mercy I would have been disappointed. Never the less, as the daughter of the leader of her clan her body has been kept perfect. For Celts place a great price on a woman who is neither marred nor soiled. She had been groomed for a marriage that would bring more power and riches to her father. Now she was tagged in a way that slaves of both Realms would be recognized by. Nipple rings have long been a common way of tagging one's slave. I sent the shamed and dishonored female to the tower in the care of the Harpy guard who had done the honor of inflicting the piercings upon her. To insure that the tower would not be affected by the beast who had become beguiled by the little witch, I have had the outer layer of the tower encased in the ivory of a long dead beast of the mortal realm, and the roof shingled in slates of opal.**_'

The scroll ended, and Jareth took a deep breath as he rolled it up and fastened it once more. He was not sure he wanted to go on reading but felt he needed to. "Lutin," he called out; "Just how many of the diaries deal with the creature in the tower?"

"Many," was the calm answer. "Zoltarie was enthralled with her." He looked at the King. "Would you care for some tea or something, Sire?"

"Yes, thank you." He opened the next scroll and read. '_**Once more my plans go awry due to the slave in the tower.**_' Jareth laughed aloud, the date on this new scroll dated the information as being a few months after the raid. '_**A few days with out food and drink should take some of the fight out of her.**_' The next entry was not about the female prisoner but about the golden haired boy the Goblin was keeping. '_**Torr was brought to me today; he is accepting his new home without any signs of resentments or of difficulty. He is a delightful child even though he is human. He is a bright and inquisitive little imp, and shows no signs of fear of any of the many Goblin races that are in my employ. His language skills are not yet apparent; he is too young to really understand all that has taken place. It is likely he will not remember who his people are.**_'

Jareth wondered if Toby would have remembered who his people were had he been able to keep the boy. He doubted it, after all he and the boy had bonded quickly. It was most likely that he would have come to think of Jareth as his father in a very short time. That thought pleased the Fae King far more than it should as he read on.

'_**Saraid is going to be a hard nut to crack and her determination to escape me and take other slaves and possessions with her is becoming a problem. She used the sheets and curtains of the tower room to escape. All the draping and sheeting has been removed by my orders. For now there will be no luxuries for the slave, she must learn who is master.**_' Jareth now understood why here was no draping in the room, and why the sheets were of milkweed threads. They were not likely to hold more weight than that of a swarm fairy. '_**The female is more trouble than I had known a female could be. I'd have thought being whipped and tagged was enough, but no, she is hell bent on breaking free and taking all captives with her.**_'

Jareth looked again at the date on the scroll, he mused it must have been the beginning of the somewhere around the end of the first century of modern history in the mundane world. About the year ninety five A.D. "Lutin, do we have a map of the area's raided by Zoltarie?"

The Scribe came forward carrying the precious scrolls, looking as fresh as the day they had been created. One of the benefits of the Underground was the long term affects of magic on things that would crumble to dust in the mundane realm. Most Kingdoms had scribes like Lutin who saw to it that the precious words and drawings on parchment were preserved, and not lost as so many such scrolls had been in the mundane planes. He unrolled the map and placed it before his King, returning a few moments later with the promised tea. Jareth looked at him and asked. "Do we have a common map telling us the mundane names?" This too was placed before the King. "The raid on Saraid's village must have been here… in the Highlands of Scotland." Jareth mused as he again checked one map against the other. "Yes, here, and her people must have been at battle with the Roman forces trying to subjugate them." Placing the maps aside the King returned to the chronicle of the events.

'_**She did not make straight for the woods or the Labyrinth as with her first two attempts, this time she boldly went into the slaves quarters and amassed an attempt to revolt and flee. If she were not so much trouble, I would admire her determination. Again I will resort to depriving her, this time not only of food but of all comforts including her guards. A few days alone will do to keep her in her place.' Jareth mused that it had not and found the next entry proving that hunch right. 'Saraid taxed me to the limits and I have retaliated in a way that left one of us pleased and the other bruised and bleeding. **_

_**The woman's head must be made of stone, like that god forsaken area of Scotia she comes from. One would think having been deprived of food and comfort would have taught the bitch to keep her opinions to herself. Her guards fed her and saw to her bathing, upon reviving her strength she no sooner sees me with the boy Torr than she hurls insults down upon me from her tower rooms. Calling me thief and worse, and the boy heard it all but didn't understand. I could tell from his face he did however recognize the girl. For he reached out his arms, outstretched toward the tower toward her, she called down to him, ignoring me. The boy was upset that I would not allow him to see the girl, but settled down once he was taken indoors. I however could hear her howls and threats even when I closed my balcony door. When I returned to the balcony the bitch began to hurl whatever she could get her hands on out the window down at me. **_

_**I called up my Gryphon and upon arriving in the tower room, sent her Harpy guard away. Enraged the Celtic maiden hurled herself at me, thinking to send me out the widow and to my death undoubtedly. There is something to be said about the fire of a raging Celtic woman. We battled until I pinioned her down upon the barren mattress. Immobilized and helpless, she still struggled; even after I'd bound her to the cot she struggled on. I can hear her screams still and the fire they coursed in my blood is a memory that I will not easily forget. Nor that of deflowering her; making her my intimate. Today I have taken her from her realm forever, for now she will be my **__**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan. For I find the sight of her bound and struggling most pleasing**_.' Jareth placed the scroll down, thinking of how beautiful Sarah had been as he bound her to the cot, the same one Saraid had been bound to. He mused that the King must have taken his time with her just as he had Sarah, and he ventured he had forced her body to betray her as he had forced Sarah to come to a climax. IT was worse than mere rape; it was defiling the very soul, and making the woman give into sinful pleasure. A weapon the Mundane had come to use far later.

"My King has found something of interest?"

"Indeed," he tapped the scroll. "Zoltarie was a lusty Goblin, how was it he was not being pressed to take a Goblin Queen?"

"He was, but that is not reflected in his dairy as he had little interest in what others wanted him to do." Lutin replied. "The lists of Goblin women who were pressed upon him for a Queen, is in one of the other chronicles of the court. I would be most happy to retrieve that scroll for you also, if you wish."

Jareth stretched, "I've enough reading for one day… I wish to walk. I'll be in the lower gardens checking on Hoggle's work if anyone is looking for me." He told the Scribe. "See to it the scrolls are left out for me, I may wish to read again tomorrow."

"As you wish," Lutin looked down at the scrolls, and wished his King had read further.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Sarah had lost count of the days, but it had been awhile since the King had come to the tower, forcing himself on her. The wounds from the piercing were beginning to repair and the weight of the rings was less bothersome. She paced the turret restlessly, knowing that he could invade at any moment. Daisy asked many times if she'd like a book or some needle work to pass her time, Sarah glared in reply. Della, the Harpy was less cordial, and offered to toss the _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_ out the window. Since the incident when Jareth had come to the tower, Sarah had made a point of staying away from the window. Della was told to put her suggestions where the sun does not shine. Daisy wondered several times if she was going to have to break heads.

The winds were cooling as they passed over her skin from the window, and the scent of the strange fragrant flowers filled the air. She could hear the sounds of birds and something else, at first she didn't recognize the sound but when it registered she turned toward the window slightly panicked. Disbelieve followed closely by fury drove her to stand at the window, below she could see Jareth pacing his balcony with was weeping child. "You thieving bastard!" she screamed unable to hold back. Grabbing the first thing she could lay her hands on before Daisy pulled her back, she flung the item blindly out the window.

Jareth had looked up when he heard her voice and seeing the heavy pillar candle and its stand come crashing down easily stepped aside. His eyes met hers; both were full of flames as he handed the baby to the Goblin at his side. "Take care of the baby," he ordered before transforming. Less than a heart beat later he flew in the window to find both Harpy and Goblin struggling to subdue the fury of the mortal girl. "Release the bitch," he snapped and both the guards dropped their hands away from her. "Leave us." His voice was rock hard as his eyes became like lava. Both guards backed away quickly and quietly.

Sarah stood heaving, her eyes as inflamed as those of the Goblin King. "You bastard, you're still stealing children…" she growled.

"Your kind is only too quick to wish them away," he taunted her mercilessly; "As you well know." He saw her come at him, but he easily moved out of her path. "It is the silent pact betwixt your world and mine, little witch. You understand silent pacts, don't you?" He taunted as he maneuvered her to follow him in a strange almost dance in the turret room. "Magic is a greedy mistress; she demands much of us who follow her path."

"Magic does not demand that you steal children," she growled as she followed his steps unaware of his mission.

"On the contrary, she does indeed demand that _**I take the wished away, away**_." He was now almost gloating.

Sarah felt the rage turn to fire, "I doubt you know the difference between taking or stealing… it matters not, what you do is wrong." She was franticly now looking for something with which to hurl at him to do bodily damage if she could. "If I still had my powers, I'd show you…"

"Pretty threats," he teased just before he charged her, knocking her backward against one of the strange wooden frames that were in the tower room. Swiftly he bound her hands before she got her wind back. Seeing her hands bound she screamed and railed at him, while she kicked at him with her barefoot. "Looks like I have to bind your ankles as well," he grabbed one foot and bound it as well to the frame. He left on foot free while he stood back to admire his handy work. "Now, little witch, as I was saying… Magic is demanding, and there is a price to all things. The pact that was settled betwixt mine and thine, states that the King of the Goblins must gather the unwanted and wished away… I'm only doing my job."

"You take too much joy in that job you fucking bastard, let me go!" she railed fiercely.

Patting her cheek with one gloved hand he smiled contentedly. "No, I don't think so."

"Let me go you fucking wingless fairy!" The girl pulled violently at the bindings that held her wrist to the framing. Her breathing was becoming very deep and she was panting.

Jareth moved to where he was fully within her vision if not her foot reach. Slowly, with a menacing smirk, he began to peal the leather gloves from his hands. Finger by finger he pealed the leather off. When his hands were free of the leather that had clad them, he tossed the gloves over his shoulder. "Perhaps I've been too lenient with you," he mused ominously intimidating as he moved closer. "This is the thanks I get for all my… generosity." He slammed his hands to the frame on either side of her shoulders, rewarded with a shudder from the girl as her eyes filled with understanding. "I didn't have to be so…generous…Sarah Williams. Perhaps I should put you on rations of bread and water. Take your nice little cot from you… or…" He moved both hand to the sheet that covered her nakedness. "I should just take this…."

"Don't," she warned dangerously, unconscious of the fact that her wishes or wants meant little to him. "Don't you touch me…"

His face moved closer, inches away from hers as he ripped the sheet from her body. "I intend to do more than just touch you… bitch." He rumbled darkly. His eyes left hers as he looked down with appreciation at her body. Even with the slave rings she was a tempting morsel.

Sarah winced; her body was reacting to his nearness. Her nipples rose and puckered demanding attention, the golden rings moved and caused her nipples to harden and her breast to rise. When his hands cupped her breasts, she could not stop the mewl that softly escaped her lips. Clamping her lips together she cringed and closed her eyes.

Jareth was aware of the effect he had on her, it was sweet torture, and he took his time. Her skin was warm and silky even with the rings. His thumb moved light up to the nipple of her left breast, moving the ring and causing a torrent of fire to pass though her veins. She shivered in anticipation of his next move, and he chuckled softly. "Sweet Sarah," he mused. "Still trying not to take pleasure, and still being betrayed by you…oh so… lovely…. Ripe … body." The Goblin King bent forward to take the nipple he'd been manipulating in to his waiting mouth. His tongue teased and played wickedly with the ring. The girl drew her breath in sharply, and hissed as it needed to escape. Her heart beat as wildly as a bird's wing, and her pheromones told him she was well on her way to becoming ready. He looked upward from the breast still in his mouth. Green eyes full of need met the stormy mismatched pair. His hands moved down to the cord at her waist that held the remains of the sheet to her curves. The milkweed sheet dropped, and she was exposed to his hands. His long fingers skimmed over her hips and over her firm rounded buttocks. She breathed in a broken sob; his eyes were still locked with hers. He could smell the sweet warm aroma of womanly juices seeping from her. Their eyes were still in contact as he sunk down slowly to his knees. He placed her free leg over his shoulder as he stabilized himself on the cold stone tiles.

"No, oh don't…" she whispered pleadingly. "Don't…"

Jareth took his eyes from her face, and looked at the soft folds that protected her sex. The ring in the fold of the Venus mound moved slightly with her breathing. He looked up, her eyes widened as his tongue extended to tickle the metal ring before it swept over her folds and then into her. Her moans delighted him, as did her shivers of delight as he toyed with her feminine organ. He lapped up her juices that were now flowing freely. He had told himself this was to punish her, nothing more. However the move she flowed, the harder he lapped and soon he was beyond caring about punishing. She shivered as the orgasms began to sweep her beyond consciousness or caring. Jareth rose, his clothes vanished as he did. He pulled her free leg up over his hip as he forced his extended and swollen manhood into her. Like a sheath to a dagger she fit, his hands held her closer as he began to thrust upward into her. Sarah moaned and arched, unable to fight the need and the desires that were afire within her. His mouth covered hers, and he told himself he was in control, he told himself he could stop. Her sweet warmth clamped down on him as he thrust harder, and harder. Now both were breathing laboriously. Her leg curled and clamped down tighter. He tightened his hold on her as his seed poured hot and thick into her womb. Sarah opened her eyes, and looked at him; his eyes were just opening as well. Jareth made no effort to disentangle himself from her. His hands still held her rounded bottom and he was still buried deep in her. Sarah could still taste him, and it sent an involuntary shudder through her.

Jareth caressed her bottom, as he began to pump slowly again. "Please me, _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_, and I will forget your transgressions against me this day." He crooned in her ear.

"Fuck off," she whispered back with every bit of focus she could muster.

Jareth chuckled, "With pleasure." He pressed harder into her.

"That's not what I mean," she began to struggled, but it was useless, her bindings would not give and the King was in control. "You wait until I'm free, Jareth… I'll make you pay for this…"

"Talk is cheap Sarah," he warned as he thrust harder. "I'm King, and you my dear, a but the King's slave."

"I'm no slave…I'm Sarah Williams," she spat at him. "I'm the girl who beat your fucking Labyrinth!"

"And yet here you are," he taunted, taking great pleasure to point out to her the changing tides. "Bound, and being used…." He smiled at her wickedly. "Never forget Sarah, I'm the King… and I always win." He moved his hands to her breasts and cupped them then looked at the rings and murmured the words of a chant she didn't understand; nevertheless she felt the metal that was hanging from her warm. "I have now decorated your pretty rings." He told her with merriment. "Your slave rings now read…_**the personal property of**__**Jareth Tuatha Dé Danann Huukec Mec, Warrior King**_." He felt the pent up roar long before it found its way out of her throat.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Daisy paced, now and again she looked up at the tower, only to look down and pace again. Della perched herself on the balustrade of the terrace rail. She watched the Goblin with amusement. "Runt you're wearing a path in that stone."

The Goblin looked over at the Harpy. "This is not good," she mumbled darkly. "He needs to read the damn scrolls and instead he's repeating the mistakes of the Last King…." She bit at the fingertips of the gloves on her hands. "Damn men…and their drives…"

The Harpy snorted, "She is the one who started this."

Daisy didn't try to explain the error in the Harpy's thinking. She knew it would do no good. She sighed deeply, knowing she'd have to make an appointment with the Scribe. She looked up at the tower when she heard a pleased roar. "He's finished," she said motioning the Harpy to prepare to fly them both up to the tower.

A moment later the owl soared out the window, and glided down to the terrace before transforming into the King once more. "Clean her up and then remove her bindings." He instructed Daisy. "She pleased me well." He moved into the palace with a smirk on his lips.

Della shook her head, "I don't understand what he finds so pleasing, and she is after all only an ordinary girl."

Daisy looked with disquiet at her partner. "You have no idea of how unordinary that girl is." She allowed the Harpy to grip her under the arms and carry her up to the tower.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Jareth instead of going to the throne room, or to his study, made his way to the library. Lutin seemed to have sensed his approach and had the scrolls laid out for him along with a cup of hot tea. The King picked up where he'd left off and felt a surge of brotherhood with the long ago Goblin King.

'_**Saraid is still too much connected to her world,**_' the words were like a lament. '_**I must break her of this connection, and to do so I must take from her all that I can. I have taken her from her people, and I have deprived her of any mortal companionship. Now I must take from her the one thing she holds nearly as dearly as breath itself… I must take her name from her.**_' Jareth put the scroll down for a moment and pondered the implications. '_**From this moment on, no one will speak the name the mortals gave her… she will be…known only as **__**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan, not even if she pleases me above all others will she ever hear that name again…**_' Jareth read on, '_**I have called upon my leather smith and the metal master to crate a special harness just for my Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan. Once it is delivered I shall take great pride in showing off my newly trained slave… Not even Oberon in all his glory can boast one such as her.**_'

Jareth looked over the notes, but saw no description of the harness. He rose from the table and moved toward the door. "Philo," he called out as he moved through the corridor, "Philo."

"Sire?" The Hobgoblin bowed to him, "You've a task for me?"

The King smiled at the man with a slightly wicked nod. "Tell me good Philo, in the vaults containing the belongings of Zoltarie, is there a slave's harness? One manufactured by the leather master and the metal smith jointly?"

"You speak of the harness of the _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_;" Philo said with understanding and a sad face. "Alas no, it was removed with the _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_, herself." He tapped his chin. "I do believe however the masters of metals have the original measurements and description of the item, Sire."

"Call the Mater Smith to meet me in my Goblin Throne room, tis not a matter to be brandied about in the state Throne… this is a Goblin matter, and should be handled as such." Jareth said as he walked away knowing his wishes would be seen to.

Half an hour later the Hobgoblin Master of the Forge was bowing before his King. "You have sent for me, _**Jareth Tuatha Dé Danann Huukec Mec, Warrior King**_?"

"I have recently learned of a harness…" he began with a cryptic smile.

Joachim looked up at the King with a leering grin all his own. "Ah, you speak of the harness created for the _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_," the Hobgoblin master moved toward the dais. "I was wondering when my King was going to request it."

"You know of it?" Leaning on his thigh, the King pressed his Metal master. "I was told it vanished with the salve herself."

"The one she wore went with her…. The pattern and the knowledge passed down from father to son." Boasted the proud Goblin Master; "I was sure you'd want one the moment you had me create the rings for your pretty slave. Her jewelry pleases you, Sire?"

Leering back the King snorted. "The lady's rings please me indeed." He leaned back, lazily. "Now about this harness…"

"There are actually two harnesses, my King." Joachim interrupted; "One for training, one for… showing off the slave."

"Would it be hard to recreate?" The King asked pleased with the thoughts of training Sarah in the long lost art of the slaves.

"I began work the day you had the Harpy pierce the mortal." Joachim announced proudly. "I should have the first harness the one for training finished by morning. I shall deliver the tack to you with the rising sun." He bowed deeply with a wicked smile. "_**Jareth Tuatha Dé Danann Huukec Mec, Warrior King**_, long may you reign."

Jareth waved the man off, unaware of the man watching the entire proceedings. The Baron moved forward and asked softly; "A training harness?"

"She is my slave, and I will do with her as I please," the King answered without looking at his cousin.

"Yes, but… a harness… and tack? My Goddess Jareth, the woman is not a horse.;" Protested Devon with some measure of dislike.

Jareth looked at him; "And how are things going between you and your pretty little witch?" The King snorted and looked overly pleased. "Perhaps I should have one made up for you as well."

"Jareth, you handle your witch your way and leave me to mine." Devon moved out of the throne room with disgust, hearing the peals of wicked laughter that echoed in the circular chamber.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Daisy and Della's replacements arrived giving the pair a break. Instead of heading toward the pub, Daisy moved toward the Library and called out to Lutin. The Scribe moved into the main room and bowed to his niece. "Captain, what brings you to the chamber of learning?"

"The King," Daisy said swiftly. "How far into the scrolls is he?"

"Not as far as I would wish… he read of the harness… and called for Joachim to come to the Goblin Throne…" Lutin stated somewhat disturbed by the events as they were unfolding.

"I see." Daisy again began to bite the tips of her gloved hand. "It would seem I am going to have to move him to read before he makes a mess of this…"

"Captain," Lutin cautioned. "Remember, Jareth is King… he must come to this at his own speed."

"Lutin, he may be King, but she is _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_, and as the only champion of the Labyrinth… she may be our last hope… We need them both!" She turned to exit the chamber of scrolls and learning. "The entire Underground needs them both!"


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28. Training to please the King**

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

**Author's note:**

**Yep it's a smut alert.**

**You've received it, now it's your problem.**

**Read at your own risk…**

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Jareth looked with interest as Joachim handed him the leather and metal harness that was to be used in the training of the _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_. He held it up inspecting the workmanship. "This is a thing of beauty Joachim!" His words praised the Goblin who gave the King a happy smile. "I thank you for your prompt compliance with my request."

"For my King, anything…" The metal master noted. "The other one will take a bit of fitting to your slave… You don't want chaffing or marring. I should like to take the first measurements as soon as possible." 

"Why not now," Jareth produced a crystal from the air, and sent it to the tower.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

The crystal floated in through the window as Sarah finished her meal. It headed for Della, and the Harpy frowned as it burst and the King's voice commanded. "Bring the _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_ to me in the Goblin Throne room."

Della, who watched Daisy and the mortal eat with disgust, snapped her fingers. "Ok girly girl, move your shapely ass over here."

Sarah wished they had trusted her with cutlery; she'd have liked to have taken a knife to the Harpy time and again. "Don't order me about you over grown canary." She snapped. "That fop can wait until I'm done with my meal."

The Harpy glowered at the young woman taking her time with her mean. "What did you call me?"

"A over grown canary…but I take it back, canaries are pretty…and you're the uglest thing I've seen in the Labyrinth…and you smell almost as bad as the bog." Sarah said calmly as she nibbled small bites of toast. "You're nothing more than a vulture."

"Did you hear her?" The Harpy asked the Goblin Guard who shrugged. "The nerve of it," Della cawed heartily. "What do you think we should do about such disrespect?"

Daisy leaned back and placed an arm over her chair's back. "It's not my problem as I see it, Birdie…I believe she was addressing your appearance and hygiene...Not mine."

The Harpy swaggered over to the table and ripped the toast out of Sarah's hands. Hauled her out of her seat causing her pain as she touched the girl; "Ups a daisy," her harsh voice gloated as she forced the girl toward the window. "Now don't make me drop you…the King wants you in one piece." Sarah struggled as she was hauled out of the window and carried down to the window of the Throne room reserved for Goblin Kingdom and Goblin business alone. Della laughed callously as she deposited the girl with a thud on the stone floor before the Leather clad King who was seated on the throne looking Godlike. "Your parcel, Sire," the Harpy chortled.

Sarah looked up at the King and saw the Metal master standing beside him. She crouched on the floor, ready to spring like a cobra. 

Jareth was amused by Sarah's bravado. "Thank you for coming so quickly…_** Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_," he addressed her by title. "I would have all address this… creature by her title."

"I prefer my name," Sarah retorted her head coming up defiantly.

"You have no name, but the one I give you." He informed her with a sneer. "For now _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_ is all the name you'll need." He stood up, knowing his new garments were far more impressive than the regalia he once wore. He moved gracefully down the steps of his Goblin Throne, his cape fluttering slightly behind him. With ease he reached down, gripped her one arm and pulled her to her feet to face him, slightly bowed toward her and hissed.

Sarah had not meant to react, but by instinct she felt her lips curl back, her teeth grate and a low growly hiss escaped her throat. Her breath suddenly came in low shallow huffs. "Release me, you bastard."

"Never," he said as his lips connected with her ear. The young woman shivered under his touch. "Today you begin the training of the _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_," he pulled her to face the metal master who held out an evil looking harness toward her. Backing away, she found herself blocked by the King, her head fell back and she roared. In her ears rang the haunting laughter of a Goblin King as his hand pulled the latest sheet she'd draped about herself, off her body.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Devon was surprised to find Bryn already sitting at the breakfast table waiting for him. "My dear, you're up early." He commented as he signaled his servants to bring in the meal. "Did you not sleep well?"

"I'm not usually a late sleeper," she explained softly. "I was wondering if I could make a request," she said as the servant placed her meal before her.

"That depends on the request," he teased softly. "What is it you wish for?"

"I'd like permission to do some gardening," she kept her voice quiet.

"No Bryn," he said calmly. "I'll not have you messing about trying to concoct potions to depose myself and the king." He sipped his juice.

"I wouldn't…" She protested before he raised his hand to silence her.

"Of course you would, I would in your place!" He stated. "I think I've been more than tolerant not punishing you for the plans you've been making while reading in my own library."

Placing her hands in her lap and leaning back against her chair, the girl with mossy green eyes looked at the Fae Lord and sighed. "How long have you known?"

"From the start," he said taking a fork full of eggs and eating them slowly; "More than a fortnight."

"You bastard," she whispered icily. "You sneaky conniving, low down, rotten bastard."

"Yes, my dear," he nodded. "Now be good and eat before the food gets cold."

"You were just going to sit there and let me go on thinking I could… if I had not asked to muck about in the garden you were going to let me go on reading and …" she stammered angrily.

"Darling girl," he smiled softly, hoping it would distract her from continuing this triad. He'd a fair idea of where it would lead, and it was not a path he'd choose to take, not now. "I was hoping you'd find something in all that information that would help you see how futile your struggle…" he paused, and sighed. "Miss Cystennin," he addressed her very formally. "Have I at anytime during your stay thus far treated you with anything less than respect?" He found himself looking at her and feeling insulted, and decided to let her know how he felt. While he was polite his expression of having been insulted was not hidden.

His words and manners, and the hurt in his eyes took her aback. "No, you've been a perfect gentleman." She admitted softly. "You've treated me with respect… I suppose by most standards you've been… generous."

"All I ask is that you show me the same…respect," he looked down at his breakfast. "I've received a court invitation to the High King's residence for the Solstice celebration, and I had hoped to extend an invitation to you to join me as my… companion."

Bryn bit back the words that would have rushed out, and looked at the man. He was not faking the pained expression, but Bryn could tell the man was milking it for all it was worth. "I am sorry if my actions have caused you pain, Baron." She placed her hand to her aching head, "I wish things were not so… difficult for us…. You're really not a bad sort." The tension and the exasperation of the situation had given Bryn one of her head aches.

"_**Things**_," he retorted icily; "Are difficult because _**you**_ insist upon making them so."

Exasperated with the infuriating Fae, Bryn challenged him in just as icy a tone. "Baron, put yourself in my shoes for a moment…"

Devon had not expected her to be rational, and frowned. She was not playing into his hands as he'd planned. "I beg your pardon." He blinked, had she really just challenged him?

"I don't think _**you**_ understand the implications of what you and your King did." She challenged coldly. "I think you just saw a pretty face and a curvy body and said, 'oh my, she'll be delighted to play dirty sex games rather than be in prison.' Well guess what pal, you bet on the wrong gal… Lilith was the one of us who was a sex kitten… Not Sarah and most certainly not me… Am I actively looking for an out, you bet I am… Look, just because I can't leave without the help of some benevolent goddess... don't mean I need to stay with _**YOU**_."

Devon was relieved there was no food in his mouth, for he'd be choking on it if there were. His jaw dropped, leaving him looking very foolish as he sat staring at the young woman who was rising from her seat with more grace under fire than any of the Fae women he'd known. Her Welsh heritage shone on her now as brightly as the beacon of a light house. Standing, glaring at him, she looked every inch a Celtic Warrior. 

"As to your suggestion of an offer to accompany you to the High Court…" She looked at him as if he were lower than snake piss; "You can take your offer and shove it, sailor…" She turned on her heal and exited the breakfast room, her long reddish gold curls bouncing down her back as she stormed from the room. 

He sat at the table for a few moments before it registered that not only had he been turned down, but she was well and truly insulted by his behavior. "I'll be damned." He said under his breath in an amazed voice. "The girl… likes me..." He looked the direction she'd gone, and knew she'd most likely go to the garden to clear her head. Standing up he tossed his napkin on the half eaten meal. 

Bryn was sitting under the spreading branches of a tree that was just losing its leaves. She looked up to see him exiting the house, and heading toward her. She braced herself for his inevitable argument. "I have no intentions of arguing with you any further today." She said pointedly as he drew near.

His hands extended, gripping her by the forearms dragging her off the garden bench she was seated upon. "Good," he murmured as he planted his lips to hers. For a moment he feared she was going to go limp. Instead she suddenly gripped his lapels and retuned his kiss. Moments later when he broke the kiss to breathe he looked at her and moaned softly. "I've wanted to do that since the moment I laid eyes upon you..."

"No," she warned coldly. "No games Baron…"

Devon tipped her face up to his. "Not this time, little witch, this time I'm playing it straight." Again he lowered his lips to hers this time her arms reached up about his neck. Gently he lifted her off the floor and held her suspended in the air. When the long lingering kiss broke he hugged her close. "My God and Goddess, I feel like you're making a new man of me." He breathed in her ear. 

Pulling back the girl looked at him questioningly. "Baron if you're expecting me to jump through hoops and do summersaults into a bed simply because your treatment of me has been humane…"

"I've been an idiot, little one, forgive me…" he pleaded taking her hands and pressing them to his heart. "I've had little experience with mortals from the mortal planes… and Cariad; I am a bit use to being fawned over because of my station." He now smiled at her broadly. "For more than a fortnight now I've had the pleasure of your company… and I don't think I really gave your…situation much thought." He tucked one of her hands into the crook of his arm and lead her toward the orchard where most of the trees were still being harvested. "I will not underestimate you again." He promised.

"Of course you will," she sighed as her steps fell in with his. "Men, Fae and mortal alike underestimate and take for granted the women in their lives…"

"I am several centuries older than you, my Cariad, and I don't think I'm nearly as cynical." He teased laughing quietly. "But let us start again… you've been a wonderful dinner companion… full of wit and marvelously scintillating conversation…But I don't think either of us has really made an effort to know the other."

"Well getting to know you would have taken away from my plot to escape." She quipped in a sweet voice while batting long lashes at him.

"Damn but you're a witty girl." He chuckled. "Seriously… The High King throws the most wonderful celebration you've ever imagined. Food, wine, music and merriment…even a Fairy Ring Dance, which is a sight you'll never forget. So Bryn Cystennin, would you do me the honor of allowing me to escort you to the Celebration on Avalon?"

"Yes," she said softly walking at his side. "I'd be very pleased to go as your_** companion**_." Looking about the orchard, she had to admit the gardens and orchard were a wonderful place to be even in the last days of autumn. Bryn secretly wondered what the Palace of Avalon would look like.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Sarah had struggled against both men who had wrestled her into the harness. Jareth knew very well she would, and he took pleasure in the pain on her face when Joachim's hands had touched her and when the harness had been strapped on. She had screamed in pain and indignation, righteous anger bubbling forth like a geyser. He could have easily used magic to put the harness on her, but that would have deprived him of seeing her humiliated once more. Now he was fastening leather and metal cuffs to her wrists to match the ones Joachim was fastening to her ankles. 

"A perfect fit," Della observed from a safe distance. "How very fitting," she laughed callously at Sarah's discomfort.

Sarah turned her wounded gaze up at the King. "You snake, I swear if it's the last thing I do, I'll make you pay for this."

Wicked delight burned like fire in the stormy mismatched eyes of the King. "I look forward to seeing you try." Stepping back he viewed her. "Charming," he commented abrasively. 

Sarah would have preferred to cover her now bare breasts; the harness left nothing to the imagination. However she knew that he expected her to be modest, so she pulled every last vestige of dignity forth and stood with her head held proudly, and her hands at her sides. She may be a captive, but it was going to be a cold day in Hell before she'd allow him to have the upper hand. "This means nothing," she said frostily. "You have my body… but you'll never have my soul."

Shrugging the Goblin King returned to his throne. "For now, your body will more than do; keep your soul…"

Della jeered, "I'd wipe that sneer off her face if I were you, my King."

Jareth didn't look at the Harpy. "I don't recall asking your advice."

The winged creature shrugged; "Just a suggestion."

Lounging in the deep and wide seat of the throne, against the ivory tusk that made up the back and arms, the Goblin King looked at his _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_. The haughty look had given way to one of lustful desires. He snapped his gloved fingers, and ordered sharply. "Leave." The metal master having taken the measurements he needed bowed and departed without a backward glance. The Harpy on the other hand made a slight protest, offering to back the King up, give him aid in any other way. "I don't need your help, thank you." He said knowingly in a sinister way. "Leave us." When still she hesitated, Jareth barked loudly. "Be gone!"

Sarah had been standing glued to one spot, staring off into space, willing herself out of this place. She watched with little interest as the Harpy took wing and fled out the window she'd entered by. Sarah knew they were alone and that no one else would enter unless Jareth would allow them to. She looked at him with a sideways glance, as he sat in the throne. He was dressed far differently than he had been the first time she'd seen him or for that matter the way he'd been dressed the night she and the two other witches had captured him. Today he was wearing black leather, a form fitting garment that resembled a dancer's cat suit. It was slashed down to below his navel in front and showed more of his chest than Sarah had ever hoped to see. He was toned, not a once of fat, all muscle and every inch of it was kept fit. The black leather against the rich deep purple and gold draping and his smooth alabaster skin gave a striking appearance, and she found her self mesmerized. 

"Come here," he invited softly. Even as the words left his lips, they sounded more like an order.

The order registered, and she contemplated ignoring it. Turning slightly she looked directly at him, leaning back with one boot hooked over the side rail. Following the long lean line of his leg it was hard not to catch a glimpse of the bulge that was throbbing in the lower portion of the cat suit. Sarah wanted to look away but found she was enthralled by the sight of him being so sexually commanding. Staring at the bulge she would swear that it was breathing, well on the way to becoming a full erection and she wondered if it would remain contained in its leather prison much longer. There was no denying that in the four years since that fateful night that she'd refused him, he had become perhaps princelier. No longer did he look like a refugee from a glam rock band. Now he was focused, more mature, and more dangerous… and god help her he was by far and a way sexier than ever he had been that first time she'd seen him. But there was one more thing he'd become, and that was far crueler than he'd been. Now he was more calculating than he'd been and manipulatively conniving, and he now was responsible for not only stealing her dreams but wounding her pride as well as her body. "Why should I?" she challenged.

"Come here," he repeated, this time the invitation was less inviting and his eyes narrowed.

Even as his lips formed the words they reminded Sarah of another time. In a room of crystal she'd sought him, and he'd looked at her much the way he was looking at her now. That time it had been to distract her, this time it was to compel her. "Make me," she dared him as she steeled her heart against him. 

Lazily he tilted his head to one side and let his eyes rake over her. Naked with the exception of the harness and her slave rings, and yet even in this moment she was queenlier than any other woman he'd ever known. Her body was no longer that of a child, she had matured. Her breasts had grown full and heavy in the four years that they had been separated. Her hips were shapely before even hidden under the jeans she'd been wearing upon that first meeting. Now they were rounded and gave her a feminine womanly gait as she walked. Her legs were beautifully sculptured and he longed for them to be wrapped about his waist while he took his pleasure from her. His eye lids lowered becoming mere slits, and he held out his hand. "I will force you if you prefer." He warned. 

Sarah knew it was no idle threat, he would find a way to force her. She held her head high, and moved forward. "Yes, I'm sure you would." Forward to the King she may have to go, but it would be very slow steps.

He watched he move, "I swear by the God and all Demons, you are more desirable now than I had thought possible." His hand was still extended out to her.

"I wish I could say the same for you," she replied, halting at the base of the steps. She looked at the extended hand, and locked her hands together behind her back. Refusing to take a step closer or to even touch the hand extended out to her.

Gradually he lowered his hand, as his lips formed a thin hard line. "Let us be clear about a few things here, girl." His voice had taken on an edge. "I am King, you are my slave…"

"I am not a slave…" She spat back like a hissing cat.

Such insolence should have angered him, instead it pleased it. "I beg to differ," he motioned toward the harness. "You begin your training today as my personal slave… for now you will remain in your tower when you are not needed. However if you behave and please your King you will be given privileges. If you disobey or in any way displease me, there will be punishments." He smiled lazily, "I'm sure, knowing your hard headedness, there will be lots of punishments." The girl looked away unwilling to meet his eyes. "For now you will be address as and will answer to your title, _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_."

"That is not my name," she protested.

"You have no name," he responded unsympathetically. "You have only what the King gives you… and for now_** Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_ suits my purpose. You will come to me when I call for you, and you will obey my every command."

"It will be a cold day in hell…"

"Hell is frozen over, bitch." He lowered his hooked leg too the floor, leaning forward. His eyes were now beyond stormy, they were raging. "Come here," he glowered darkly.

Inching forward, Sarah closed the space between her and the man on the throne. "Yes, Sire." Her tone was disrespectful, and her lips curled.

"Kneel," he commanded in a whisper as he pointed to the spaced directly between his spread feet. 

Sarah gauged the space between her and the door, and wondered how quickly he could leave the throne. Her eyes darted about the circular space, looking for something she could use to defend herself. Finding nothing of use, she looked again toward the entryway, and then back at the still waiting King who now wore a look that told her he knew exactly what she'd been thinking. There would be no escape, Sarah realized. She moved to the spot he was still indicating and knelt down keeping her hands locked behind her back. The intense fragrance of his personal scent flooded her senses, as she fought to keep focused. Defiantly she raised her head, and let her eyes meet his.

"I always knew you were a smart girl," he commented, as one hand moved to cup her chin. "Such fire in those cruel eyes," he purred. "Little wonder I am a moth to your flames." 

Sarah wanted to die when the involuntary shiver shot through her. Nevertheless she kept her features schooled, not willing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her crumble.

He let his thumb move over her cheek, the soft kidd leather gliding over her beautiful dewy skin. "You are a thing of beauty," he murmured ominously. He watched as her color rising to her cheeks as he continued to gently stroke. He saw the flicker of movement in her lashes, and knew that his touch, while totally uninvited, was satisfying a need no other in either her realm or his could. It had been his plan to shame her once more, to cause her humiliation. He focused his vision on her mouth, the full, sensuous, sumptuous lips that even now were just slightly parted. "I want your mouth." He purred in a sinister way as he inched forward in the seat of the throne. His scent was growing stronger, and the bulge was now straining the leather. The bulbous head of the growing erection began to peep out of the narrow opening of the cat suit, demanding freedom. Slipping his free hand down, he eased the rest of his manhood free. The throbbing monster shot forward, red, throbbing and still engorging and rising up toward the girl's face. As Sarah watched the member breathed into its full length and pressed into its metal binding. The realization of his request snapped Sarah out of the euphoria his touch created. Her eyes widened, had he not snaked his hand into her hair, she'd have bolted away. "Open your mouth." He commanded.

Sarah furiously pulled her head free of his grip, and yelped as the strands were yanked back. "No, I won't do that…it's disgusting!" With herculean effort she broke free of his grasp, and turned to roll away. Her ankle was caught in the vice grip of one hand, the same hand that had moments ago stroked her cheek tenderly. Yanking her back before she could react he slipped a metal clip through the ring on the ankle and swiftly he reached down to the other and clipped it as well, now her ankles were bound together. She looked back over her shoulder as the clip slipped through the second ring and snarled viciously. Forgetting who she was dealing with for a moment, a moment that cost her more than she cared to give, she extended her right hand like a claw aiming at his face. However as her legs were now of no use they acted like an anchor and she was easily shoved off balance. He took hold of both hands, pulling them behind her and placed a clip to the bindings. A third clip with links of chain attached the hands to the ankles and she was left on her side on the floor, howling like a banshee.

Jareth stood over her for a moment, breathing in deep heavy breaths. His engorged member was even fuller now and completely free of the leather cat suit. It looked like a caged monster as he stood over the bound girl. His lips were curling back, and his eyes were like lava on the sea. "I've been generous with you up to now, _**Tagaan**_;" his words came in between the heaving breaths. Reaching down, he yanked her up by the hair to her knees once more. Now with her wrist bound to the ankles she was unable to escape. She could only kneel to his majesty; "However, there are limits to that generosity," he warned threateningly. "This is the last time I will tolerate your resistance, _**Tagaan**_;" he now positioned himself, straddling the ground to either side of her knees. His left hand was knotted in her hair at the base of her neck; his right hand had shot out into the air. There was a cracking reverberation just before a flogger appeared out of nowhere in his hand. He gripped it with a firm grasp as he steadied his stance. "Now, open that lovely mouth," he ordered harshly.

Sarah's eyes bulged now that she was face to face with his loins. Now that it was in such close proximity, she could see the raised ridge of silver that was studded with miniature rough edged nubs as it wrapped around his engorged shaft. Strangely, unlike most men, Jareth it seemed had no body hair, no downy fuzz to soften the lines formed by his bones and muscles underneath his skin. He was smooth and sculpted, and had his muscles not rippled she'd have thought he were an alabaster stature. Staring straight ahead, her breath became shallow.

"Open you mouth," he repeated. When Sarah was unable to comply because she was hypnotized by the serpent in front of her rising like a cobra from a basket, he reached around her and gave her exposedrear a swat with his flogger by simply flicking his wrist. It was not enough to do harm, only to gain her attention. She would have pulled back her head in shock if Jareth weren't holding her hair. Instead, she merely yelped. Jareth took advantage of the opportunity and thrust his hips into her face forcing the head of the demanding monster into her exposed orifice.

Sarah had never been so closely acquainted with the male organ. She knew what one looked like, one could not work in a strip club without seeing them being waved about and given invitation to know them better. Yet this was the closest she'd ever come personally to one. The mass filled her mouth like nothing ever had. It forced its way over her teeth, the raised nubs clicking against them and roughly rubbing the inside of her cheeks abrasively with its raw edges. The tip touched the back of her mouth and she instinctually forced her mouth wider in a gagging response. She felt Jareth gently pulling her hair in an effort to create some distance from him. Fear of choking she let him guide the movement. 

Now, each of his hands cupped her ears, his fingers entwined within the strands of her hair. The flogger dangled from his wrist on a strap, ready to use if he felt she was not complying with his wishes. His palms were pressed firmly on the sides of her head, guiding her motions. Sarah had to curve her tongue around the form of his muscle least it was rubbed raw by the ornament on his appendage. She could feel the cords of the flogger brush against her and instinctively she began to protest, her teeth coming down in contact with the coil surrounding the organ that had been shoved into her mouth. "Bite me and I'll dip you head first in the bog," he warned malevolently. She moaned and gagged again, he softened his voice, "Relax, breath though your nose," he coaxed her quietly, his voice becoming almost melodic. "That's it. Relax. It'll come like second nature to you." Jareth closed his eyes, reveling in the wet warmth that surrounded his most erogenous spot. The suit was still over his shoulders, applying pressure beneath his scrotum in a most arousing manner. "Long deep breaths, my dear, slow and easy… through your nose, and don't rush it." He guided her head in a rhythmic motion, remaining stationary, until he felt the urge to pick up the pace. Slowly, he started to pump into her orifice. Not driving, just a gently roll of his hips to alleviate his own urge. He wanted to enjoy this delightful luxury, not be done quickly. He did not need her climax for his own; he could prolong this for as long as he wished. He had waited four years to mollify and assuage the urges deep within him that she'd triggered. His own wounds at her hand were not yet healed, and he still wore a silk scarf tied about his throat. It seemed only right he should cause some discomfort to her throat he mused. Moreover he was in no rush to finish the retribution and penalty her sentence had afforded her.

The humiliation continued for what seemed like forever. She had the metallic taste of silver on her tongue, the insides of her cheeks felt like she'd been chewing on them, her muscles hurt from being forced to keep her mouth open, as he now fucked her face. But, the most difficult part was his musky, masculine scent that filled her nostrils with every deep intake of breath. It wasn't a body odor, no—this was more like a mating indicator, something that his body emitted to let women in the area that know that he was available and to get ready for him, '_**get ready'**_ is exactly what it did to the novice whose mouth he was using. It began with the tingling in her nipples, and the rings moving up and down. She tried to ignore it, put it out of her mind, just as she was desperately trying to ignore the spicy scent he was releasing. To her utter shame, she felt a tightening in her lower abdomen as warmth crept into her nether regions. Her thighs tightened involuntarily, trying to create a pressure to relieve her of the ache that was forming at their nexus. She tried to squirm, anything to create some sort of friction to help. When the sweet torture was too much to bear; Sarah whimpered—a high-pitched simpering sound that was formed somewhere within her throat back behind the probing invader.

Jareth opened his eyes with that sound. He found Sarah, writhing and wiggling her attractive derrière in a most fetching fashion. He had so focused on the sensations within his own body; he had become unaware of how her pheromones were working synergistically within his. Her eyes had fluttered closed, her flushed cheeks looked as if she were glowing. Her hardened nipples and raised breasts were causing the rings to stand away from the heavy laden mammary. Her long neck was angled to give him entry. The sight of the aroused woman kneeling in front of him was exciting, too exciting for him to contain himself. In spite of himself, his hips pumped harder as his thrusts became more pronounced. The grip on her hair tightened painfully as his senses overloaded on his release. He hissed and began to moan in anticipation of fulfillment.

Sarah was brought back from her sexual tensions by Jareth's forceful administrations. The pace he was setting was brutal; each thrust slammed the head of his shaft against the roof of her mouth, making her want to retch, heave, and gag. Suddenly she thought she did as she felt a viscous, salty substance warm her mouth. Coughing, she was able to throw her head back once Jareth released it from his vice. The sticky gelatinous ooze spilled over her lips as she shuddered and tired to breathe.

Jareth was spent; panting, covered with a fine sheen of sweat. He moved a step back, found his heal against the dais step and moved up without looking, knowing by instinct where he was standing. His hands reached for the side rails of his massive throne, he slouched into the throne lounging back as he had before the assault upon her mouth. Looking at Sarah, bound and kneeling in front of him, her hair disheveled, cheeks flushed, pupils dilated with only a hint of tears being held back, and his fluids seeping out from between those luscious lips only served to arouse him again. His manhood was still throbbing and he had not even made an effort to force it back into hiding. His haughty smile had returned as he addressed her with mock application. "My dear, I do believe we've discovered your true vocation." He watched her wince; he mentally noted the humiliation and placed yet another mark on the virtual scoreboard he was keeping in his head. "Your King is pleased," he crooned leaning back as the monster rose, still stiff and ready to administer more punishment.

Sarah closed her eyes, the salty tears spilled over her cheeks even as she refused to allow the sob to escape her throat. 

"Perhaps now would be a good time to take a break," he suggested as if they were on friendly terms. "Della!" he called out knowing the Harpy would be closed enough to hear his call.

Moments later the black wings guided the woman though the window of the throne room. "You called for me, oh great and wise Goblin King?" her tone was mocking but only slightly, and for a Harpy that was damn near respectful. Or at least as respectful as any of them knew how to be.

Jareth pointed toward the trembling girl who was trying to keep her balance in her bound state. "Take her back to the tower, have her cleaned up."

Saucily the Harpy sauntered to stand behind the disheveled Sarah, reaching down to unclip the one clip that held the bound ankles and wrist together she looked over at the King. Her eyes gazed with approval and admiration at the King's exposed hard on. "Now that's some plucker you've got there your Majesty, very nice indeed." She growled aggressively.

Jareth looked down with an amused grin, "I'm so glad you approve, Della. It has served me well, very well in fact. Wouldn't mind trying out some feathers sometime, though" He gave the Harpy a well practiced come hither grin. "Just when do you come into season, sweet bird?"

Not bothering to unfasten the rest of the clips, Della yanked the girl up off the floor. "On your feet," she ordered before turning to the King again. "You want her back or are you finished with her for the day?"

"I'm not sure," He said as he began to fondle his erection. "Now if you'd like to keep me amused…"

"Promises, promises," Della snorted lewdly as she picked up the still bound girl. "You know where to find us…" The wings spread, in the next instant the Harpy was air born with her bundle.

Jareth closed his eyes, but it was not the sassy Harpy he thought of. It was the sweet mouth that had just given him a pleasure that he'd desired for the longest time. "Oh Sarah," he sighed as his hand slid up and down his shaft. "Your humiliations are just beginning."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Della dumped Sarah on the bed, not bothering to unclip her. "I'm not a lady's made." She said harshly. "You'll have to wait until the Runt returns, she's more adept at taking care of those issues… the steamy air in your bathing area is bad for my wings." She walked over to the window. "Runt should be back with something for you both to eat….soon… and I need to hunt something for me."

Sarah lay on the bed, refusing to make any request of the Harpy. Her bound ankles and wrist could wait she decided. What could not was the ache that was throbbing and demanding satisfaction. It had been torture to know that Jareth had used her face, had emptied into her mouth, and had not cared if she had been allowed to find her own release. Closing her eyes, she could still smell his scent on her, and she began to slowly undulate and fashion a fantasy that would allow her to find some relief. 

Hearing the girl softly moan, the Harpy turned from the window and watched as the human willed herself to climax. When she finished the Harpy wondered if she should have offered to unclip her hands and feet… but then it was more fun to force the girl to deal with the hand she'd been dealt. Della moved closer, seeing the girl's eyes were closed. She wondered if she was continuing the King's dramatic production from the throne room in her mind, for the girls face was glowing.

Daisy entered the window with a hamper full of food to the unmistakable odor of sexual play. "Good Goddess, it smells like a brothel in here," she said loudly, making the Harpy jump. "What the hell is going on?" She asked seeing the bound girl. "Why didn't you unclip her?"

"Saw no need to," Della said cheerily as she moved to the window. "I'm going hunting… have a nice lunch…."

Daisy placed the hamper down on the table, moved toward the girl and became aware of the harness. "He trains you," she said sounding a bit perturbed. "And still he has not read all the scrolls…" she unclipped the human and released her hands and feet. "Let's get you out of the hardware and into a bath." She ushered the girl to the bathing area muttering as she drew a tub of hot sudsy water for the girl. "Men are such fools, you tell them where to find the secrets of the universe and they still don't bother to look."

Sarah stood still as Daisy released her from the harness. "Thank you," she replied grudgingly.

Knowing a touch would be too much for the girl, Daisy said quietly in her ear. "You are welcome…Sarah."

"He said no one is to use my name," a worried look entered her eye. For reasons she could not fathom, she didn't want this Goblin Guard removed from taking care of her. "If he finds out…"

"Then let's not tell him," suggested Daisy motioning Sarah into the deep waters of the tub. "Besides, I doubt he'll be too interested in what I call you. He has other things to occupy his mind."

"Thank you Daisy." She repeated. 

"Since the King has taken it upon himself to train you as a _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_, perhaps you should also be trained in the customs of the Goblin Court." Daisy said as she exited the bathing area. "I'm sure it would be a good thing for you to know whose who, and what's what…"

"Is this an active court?" Sarah asked suddenly interested, "Daisy do you think I might get a chance to see Bryn?"

Daisy wanted to spare the girl anymore pain. "I won't say it could not happen…. From what my cousin has said, the Baron seems to be quite taken with your friend. He dotes on her and has given her the freedom of his estate, and its grounds."

Sarah leaned back into the warm comfort of the suds and sighed. "Good, she deserved something good. Tell me Daisy…what is your opinion of this Lord Baron… this cousin of the King." 

Daisy shrugged, "I don't have to think about him, he's not the King." She saw that Sarah was not appeased and modified her answer. "Personally, I think he's a decent sort…for a Fae."

Sarah began to giggle, than laugh until tears formed. Daisy left the girl to her bath and prepared the midday meal.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

**Author's note:**

**I would like to thank Yodeladyhoo for her input and help with the King getting head… I wanted this to be technically correct and her help was invaluable. Sometimes it takes the input of some of you my friends to help get what's in my mind on paper… or the screen… oh you know what I mean…. And thanks to Anne for her input and helping me to keep Bryn and Devon from becoming too mushy way too soon…. **


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29. Days of preperations**

Jareth vacated the throne room for the more private surroundings of his own bedchamber. The moment he dropped onto the bed, he produced a crystal and focused in on Sarah. He saw that Della had callously left her bound, not that he'd blame the Harpy. Sarah bound was a picturesque sight, and Harpies were deeply moved by sexual stimuli. He made a note to keep an eye on the situation, as he had no intentions of sharing the girl. He watched as she moved trying to alleviate the state of heightened sexual tension he'd left her with. His hand moved gently up and down his still exposed shaft as the girl wiggled and panted while trying to get off. He pushed his speed to match hers as she moved in an undulation that was giving him ideas for his next strike upon her. 

He was nearly at the point of climax when Daisy suddenly appeared in the orb in his hand_**. "Good Goddess, it smells like a brothel in here," she said loudly, making the Harpy jump. "What the hell is going on?" She asked seeing the bound girl. "Why didn't you unclip her?"**_

_**"Saw no need to," Della said cheerily as she moved to the window. "I'm going hunting… have a nice lunch…."**_

_**Daisy placed the hamper down on the table, moved toward the girl and became aware of the harness. "He trains you," she said sounding a bit perturbed. "And still he has not read all the scrolls…" she unclipped the human and released her hands and feet. "Let's get you out of the hardware and into a bath." She ushered the girl to the bathing area muttering as she drew a tub of hot sudsy water for the girl. "Men are such fools, you tell them where to find the secrets of the universe and they still don't bother to look."**_

_**Sarah stood still as Daisy released her from the harness. "Thank you," she replied grudgingly.**_

Jareth dropped the orb; it flickered out as he finished the task of climaxing. He had not even thought about the way Daisy had found to enter the tower room, all he cared about at that moment was his own release. Once achieved; he moved to his own bathing area to clean up, pondering the words of his Goblin Guard as he did. What was it she'd said, '_**you tell them where to find the secrets of the universe and they still don't bother to look.' **_ The King wondered what that meant, and decided to find out. He changed his garments, and made his way by foot down to the scribe's chamber, needing to expel some of the lingering tautness. 

Lutin was working on current records when the King entered. "Lutin, do we have records of how the _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_ was trained and by whom? I'm taking it for granted that the King would have been too busy with war issues and the famine to train a woman."

"You are correct, Sire. King Zoltarie was far too taxed to take on such a menial task." Lutin moved quietly to an alcove where he was compiling the scrolls that pertained to the reign of the last great Goblin King. "Here Sire, this is the scroll that tells of the training of the _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_, it's all very detailed." The scribe handed the scroll over as the King took a seat.

The Goblin King unrolled the scroll and read the name at the top of the Scroll, The guild of Rhuukarlaan. "There was a Guild? What ever happened to that guild? Is there any record?"

"When the first Fae King took over he had it dismantled." Lutin said with woe. "More's the pity… they performed great services throughout the Kingdom. Training slaves, keeping records of sales, and they were in charge of the day-to-day upkeep of the slaves. Slaves that haven't been sold on the block or were waiting until the next auction would be sent to that guild for safe keeping and maintenance. The only exceptions were the slaves that would be used here in the palace. For them the Guild would send a training expert… but for the _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_, the guild sent over its most revered Mistress… The Lady Dunellen." Lutin spoke the name of the dominatrix with reverence. 

"Lutin," Jareth turned slightly in the seat, and regarded his scribe with respect and high regard. "Tell me true, did the guild disband, or go underground… so to speak?"

Lutin gave the King a long wary glance. "They went underground, _**Jareth Tuatha Dé Danann Huukec Mec, Warrior King**_." He held his head up proudly, respecting the man who was questioning him. "You are not like the rest of the Fae, not even the rest who dwell here in our borders. You are one of us," Lutin bowed to him. "And I will hide no secret from you."

Jareth knew what the hiding of some of the Goblin secrets could cost. He had heard of the reigns of the other Fae Kings. Most of whom he considered silly old men without any soul. He was aware they didn't love this kingdom, not like he did. Most of the previous Fae Kings could not wait until their assigned time of reign was over so they could move on to other assignments. It had never stuck Jareth as odd that Oberon had not placed a time limit on his reign. "As long as I reign, I promise you Lutin, no Goblin secret will be revealed to an outsider by me, not even to the Great High King." Tapping the scroll he continued softly. "Is there a chapter of the guild still active?"

"There is," admitted the scribe in hushed tones of secrecy. 

"Who is master of this guild as of now?" Jareth requested in an undertone.

"He is the Goblin Donatien Sade, and the guild is now disguised as an importing establishment … he trains servants for higher level Goblins with distinctive needs. Most of his trade is with Goblins who have more Hobgoblin blood, and intelligence." Lutin said suggestively. "He is a descendant of the Lady Dunellen."

"Send for him," Jareth commanded as he began to read the scrolls, "I wish for him to come here to this chamber… I want these scrolls present as I speak to him on this matter."

"As you wish," Lutin bowed moving to comply with the wishes of his King.

Jareth began to read the scroll from the Guild, feeling that he would need ever bit of knowledge they could contain. He wanted to be well prepared when Master Sade arrived.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Bryn had noticed that Devon had become very quiet. "Is there a problem I should know about, my Lord Baron?"

A soft frown formed on the handsome features before the blue eyes of the Baron turned to her. "No, not really…" he looked away, for a moment before turning back to her. "Well, maybe…I'm not sure." He took a seat on the stone wall in the orchard. "Sit with me," his hand motioned her to be seated next to him. "I know you're very concerned about your friend Sarah…."

"Yes, yes I am." Bryn nodded without hesitation. "I'm sure that where ever she is, Sarah has asked about me as well."

"What makes you so sure?" he asked knowing that indeed Sarah had asked about Bryn's welfare from several people. But he was surprised that Bryn was so sure.

"We're friends," she said in a tone that was unswerving and steadfast. Her faith in Sarah was unshakable, "I know that means very little to you, but you see because our lives are so… quickly spent, we need to form close relationships… Sarah is my friend, and my sister." She shrugged. "I know that you've a close relationship with the King, your cousin… surely you understand…"

"Your relation with Sarah Williams is what I'm worried about, Cariad." Devon murmured carefully. "You've no idea of what problems it may cause us."

"Us?" Bryn wrinkled her nose, "I was not aware there was an 'us'…as of yet." She hopped down from the wall. "Or perhaps my Lord is referring to himself and the King…"

Devon began to chew lightly on his lower lip. "I'm not sure how to address your observation." He pondered the problem before him. "If I say us as in you and I you're libel to bite my head off, and if I say Jareth and I… well it's the same result." He shook his head. "I'm treading untried waters here, Miss Cystennin… I could use a little help on your part."

"What kinds of problems can Sarah and I cause?" she questioned pacing back and forth. "We're not allowed contact; it's been weeks since I've seen her."

"As you've said, you're sisters… Jareth is a Fae King, my Cariad… he understands circles and their implications." Devon shuddered; thinking of the anger of the King. "He thinks I'm playing games with you…"

"Aren't you, my Lord?" She paused, hands on her hips and a look of distrust on her pretty face. 

"Not the kinds of games he thinks…" Devon protested. "I'm still sleeping alone," he reminded her gently.

Wincing she held up a hand. "Clarify something for me," she said straining. "Do you people just jump from bed to bed without any kind of thought of the repercussions?" She began to speak in a rush. "I mean, don't you worry about passing on diseases or … worse?"

"No," Devon said looking at her flabbergasted. 

"Well that's something we do worry about…" Bryn looked at him with just a touch of scorn. "WE have to worry about disease and unwanted pregnancy… and injury…Sex is not just for fun no matter what someone like Lilith would say…. Sarah and I were both…real careful about whom we spent time with…"

Devon raised a brow, "I sensed you were not a virgin…"

"I was raped…" she groaned, looking over at him. "You do know what rape is, don't you?"

"Sarcasm is unnecessary, I assure you." Devon narrowed his eyes as he watched her. "Who raped you?"

Bryn turned, she had not wanted to discuss this private matter with anyone and that included the Baron. "It does not matter; it's been taken care of."

"Who took care of it?" Devon asked quietly.

Bryn had wanted to hedge then chose the path the Gods and Goddess had given her. "Sarah did." She saw Devon's mouth fall and she added quickly. "The man who raped me, also raped other girls at the school, and tortured still others… The only one who ever stood up to him and thwarted him was Sarah…He had not counted on her knowing and understanding how to use Law…she figured his traps out and turned them against him, got him kicked out of the school and in the process saved the lives of every other girl there. She became our hero, and our leader….The bastard then went after her kid brother…so she devised a plan to take him out all together….Lilith and I agreed to go along with her plan…"

"The child who threatened me at the memorial," he questioned. Bryn nodded and he let a long whistle sound though his puckered lips. "Well I'll be damned…." 

"Sarah is our strength… she's a survivor… You've no idea of what that monster did to us before Sarah came to St. Ambrose. She united all of us scared little girls… she gave us a purpose. Once she took her stand, and Daniels was dismissed that hell hole became livable. She did more for all of the victims of that monster than I could ever tell you." Bryn pointed out. "So I'm afraid if you're about to ask me to deny our friendship I'll have to ask you to put me in some kind of prison… because I will never deny Sarah Williams is my friend…and my sister."

"Well," he said clearing his throat slightly. "I'd be a terrible cad if I made such a demand." He sighed deeply, looking at the petite woman who was staring back at him with a serious expression. "Damn it all Bryn Cystennin, we'll face what ever the fates throw at us."

"And you'll understand when from time to time I ask you to let me know she's…alive?"

Extending his hand to her he drew her near. "I wish I could give you more…. But yes, I'll understand. More than that, I will tell you what I know of the girl who saved you." 

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Donatien Sade it was said was a very handsome Goblin, whose features were pure Hobgoblin, rather than mixed like so many of the Hobgoblins in the Kingdom. His skin was not the grubby color of the lower level goblins; his was more like the Goblin King's skin, a soft glowing alabaster tone. He was tall and well formed, athletic and powerful. He walked with confidence, and held his head high. He had a full head of long white silky hair, which flowed down to his shoulders. From his temples pair of slightly curved but beautifully sculpted horns could be seen if one looked closely, easily covered if their owner didn't want them viewed. In his hand was a silver headed walking stick that had long been his companion and held worn groves from where his fingers would rest in the grip. His long black velvety robe flowed about in a sensual manner as he strode into the King's Library. He bowed deeply to Jareth and addressed him in a low tones, servile, yet cunning and not to be easily dismissed. "You wished to see me, Sire?"

"Donatien Sade," Jareth addressed him darkly. "I've heard you may be able to help your king with a… problem."

Arrogance danced off the man who was obviously amused by the King's innuendo. "Indeed?" He tapped his walking stick several times. "What could I, a mere merchant, do for one as powerful as you, my King?" His steely gray eyes were lit with interest and amusement. This was the first time he'd been called to the Palace, and he found the King an interesting personage.

"I have need of your… special talents," Jareth passed the open guild scroll toward the man standing. "Do be seated." Jareth motioned for him to take the seat opposite him. 

"My thanks Sire." Donatien sat down with a well practiced flourish. He looked for a moment at the scroll on the table, making no effort to touch it. Instead he rested his hands and chin on the head of the walking stick. "I see you've been reading, Sire."

"Yes, I have." Jareth sighed softly. "This is a delicate matter, and one not to be discussed with someone not of our Kingdom."

"You were not born of this Kingdom," the man visiting reminded the King. "You were born a son of the Fae." His voice was only slightly challenging.

"My birth may not have been of this Kingdom, but my heart and soul are here now." Jareth stated leaning forward. "Do you question my fidelity to the Kingdom?"

Donatien pursed his thin lips for a moment. "Not I." He looked at Jareth Tuatha Dé Danann Huukec Mec, Fae born King who now seemed more Goblin than most Goblins in the Kingdom did. Donatien, coming from a very old Hobgoblin family knew what it meant to be Goblin, and if he was assessing this Fae born correctly, he was every inch a Goblin. "I only wish to remind my King that others will." He lowered the walking stick to rest on the chair and extend in a long angle on the floor. "You say you have need of my," the elegant Goblin smirked dangerously; "My special talents?"

"On Samhain I came into possession of a rare and priceless treasure." Jareth stated gloatingly.

The Hobgoblin dressed in black nodded, "I have been in formed that the King brought back a guest who is now in his tower."

"She is _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_," Jareth stated proudly. 

Donatien cocked on brow upward, as his smirk deepened. "Indeed?"

"However she needs to be trained in the skills and requirements of the station she now finds herself in." Jareth laid a hand on the scroll from the past. "As Zoltarie called upon the Lady Dunellen, I call upon you now."

Master Donatien looked at the man sitting opposite him, "I am honored," he took a deep breath. "However Sire, I must remind you that my… guild… is outlawed by your High King."

"Your guild is not my father's business," Jareth assured the careful Hobgoblin. "Nothing that happens in my Kingdom is my father's business."

"You mean that, do you?" the master of the guild challenged.

"I went before the High Court of the Fae to declare our sovereignty." Jareth stated understanding the caution the other was exercising. He was well aware of the laws that had been levied upon the Goblin Kingdom. Laws that until recently had been the foundation of destruction, instead of the construction that had been hoped for by the oh so well meaning previous Fae Kings.

"If I agree to your request," Master Donatien now leaned forward and spoke using his hand expressively. "I will request as payment that my Guild be reinstated. That no retribution be addressed to me or any other guild member. If I undertake this request, I will expect to be allowed to live in the open once more… not to have to hide our…way of life in the shadows."

"I see no problem with that," Jareth smirked knowing it would go against everything the Fae had tried to do here in the Goblin Kingdom. "In fact I would consider it an honor to grant your Guild a new charter."

"You are not like the rest of them you know," Master Donatien praised with deep adoration of the Goblin King. "You may look like them but you are more like us. You are the Goblin King." He snickered knowing that it must upset many of the High Courts which he considered a joke. "Now, my King, tell me about your _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_," the dark master said the words with the right inflections and growling tones that were inherently Goblin. Yet on the slivery tongue of the Master of the Guild, it came out sounding like a proposition.

"She is human in origin, but living here she will not be mortal much longer. Like all who live and breathe here, she is changing in subtle ways." Jareth explained softly. "She is a magic user, whose powers I've bound…for now…but she is a witch and you must be aware of that while you train her. You will address her by her title, as I've denied her the use of her mortal name."

"Of what bloodlines is she?" The master asked with interest.

"Celtic lines, on both sides of her family." Jareth said appreciatively.

"Ah, good lines, women with fire." The master complemented softly. "I take it you had the masters of leather and metal fashion a harness not unlike the one used by the original _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_."

"Indeed," Jareth felt warmth flood his lions thinking of the fury of Sarah as they had wrestled her into the training harness. 

Master Donatien could not mistake the flood of male pheromones that the King's heightened state of excitement produced. "She must be an exquisite acquisition." When the King nodded with a wicked smile, the Master snickered. "You will want her trained here; no doubt, I will require rooms for that purpose. And rooms for my own use… I will bring my own servants if you don't mind… I prefer my staff to take care of my personal needs."

"The scroll said that there were rooms in the old west wing that were used by the Lady Dunellen when she resided here to train Zoltarie's slave…. I will have them opened and prepared for you. They include a small kitchen of sorts for the use of the Master…will they suffice?" Jareth asked.

"I have read the personal records of the Lady, and they will more than do." Assured the man with a wicked gleam in his eyes, as he rose to stand, "I shall go ready my personal staff."

"One thing," Jareth said as the other turned away. Master Donatien looked over his shoulder, and Jareth said quietly. "No one may touch the _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_," the King smiled cryptically. 

"I beg your pardon?" Donatien turned to face the King.

"A by product of a spell cast upon her some four years ago…" Jareth boasted arrogantly. "Mine is the only touch she can bear."

Donatien moved forward, intrigued. "What kind of spell did you cast, my King?"

"The lady and I did not part well," Jareth quipped. "She refused me when I offered her, her dreams… so I harvested them." He smirked; "Keeping them in an orb for my own enjoyment."

Tapping his walking stick, showing his delight in his King's wickedness, the Hobgoblin snorted. "Come now, my King… that alone could not create the milady you suggest."

"Oh," Jareth boasted; "Did I mention that I also stole her first true kiss?"

Extending a hand and placing it on the King's shoulder Donatien laughed aloud. "You are a true Goblin at heart my King! It will be a great pleasure to serve you."

"Master Donatien, would the slave be ready to be shown in public by say… Winter Solstice?" The King asked with a depraved look of pleasure.

"One hears you've been invited to Avalon," the elegant man stated and gave thought to the embarrassment Jareth's slave would cause the spoiled Fae of the High Court. "I'll have her ready for you, sire." He promised in a sinister way. 

Jareth inclined his head, "I will have equipment brought to the chamber of training for you."

Donatien was already moving toward the exit and called over his shoulder. "Not necessary, Sire. I will bring my own, and make a list of things you need to have made up for your own… use." 

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Devon arrived at the castle in the heart of the Goblin City and noticed at once the fury of activity that was going on in the west wing. "Philo!" he called out to the Steward who appeared at once. "What in blazes is he doing now?"

"He's opened the training wing…" Philo looked frightened and excited at the same moment. 

"Good Goddess," muttered the Baron as he moved toward the one place he knew the King would be; the circular Throne room. "Jareth have you lost your mind?" He called out as he entered.

"Not at all," Jareth called back to his cousin. "I'm behaving perfectly, for a Goblin King."

Devon found him lounging in the massive throne and looking entirely too pleased with himself. "You know what you are doing is against …."

"Against what? A law a Fae King instituted? But cousin, it's not a law that is even recognized by the High King… it was another attempt by Fae to squash the Goblins…and it's not natural…" Jareth protested.

Devon advanced. "Is it not enough that she is your…"

"No," Jareth stated hotly. "It is not enough for her to be just my prisoner, or my slave in name… I want her to be _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_, completely." He smiled and leaned back again. "I've reinstated the Guild _**Rhuukarlaan**_, and issued them a new charter."

"I hope you know what you are doing," Devon sighed.

"I intend to bring my beautiful slave with me to Solstice." Jareth boasted, and having a thought he motioned to his cousin. "No doubt you planned on bringing your dolly… that will mean however we must travel separately. I will not allow contact between the pair…OH that will be delicious… my _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_ will be able to see your pretty dolly, but not talk to her…"

"You've a real cruel streak in you," Devon observed.

"So do you," Jareth reminded the other. "So do you."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Della was called upon by the King the next morning to deliver Sarah to the chamber in the west wing. Daisy had given Sarah instructions on how to properly get into the harness on her own without causing damage to herself. Placing herself in the frame of mind she'd used when dancing in the strip club, Sarah prepared herself for whatever was about to befall her. 

The chamber was stark; only one chair appeared to be in the room. The torches were flickering and the room smelled of herbs and spices, none of which belonged to the Goblin King. The girl looked about, but she seemed to be alone. Instinct told her she was not and moreover not to take a seat in that chair. She listened carefully, and hard the faint sound of breathing, guarded and controlled, but it was there. "Who's there?"

"I am Master Donatien Sade," A voice from the darkness stated. "You will address me as Master Sade unless otherwise instructed. Do you understand?"

Sarah swallowed the bile that was gathering in her throat. "Yes,"

"Yes?" the voice sounded not angry but perturbed.

Sarah closed her eyes and whispered softly. "Yes, Master Sade."

From the cover of the darkness he strode out, bare chested with muscles that could rival those of the Goblin King. His breeches were form fitting and he was every inch as fit as Jareth. He looked at her with a critical eye. "I am here to teach you, and train you as a proper _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_," he said moving about her, looking at her nakedness. "Who pierced you?"

"The Harpy Della, Master Sade." She kept her voice impersonal.

"This harness, you put it on you?"

"I did, Master Sade, the Goblin Daisy taught me how." She answered truthfully.

The Master looked at the harness; this Goblin had knowledge of the workings and had given the girl the proper instructions. "Good," he said firmly. "Let us be clear," he clasped his hands behind his back. "I've been told I may not touch you… not with my hands…and though it is unusual, it is not impossible to train you with that restriction. I am not however forbidden to use whip or flogger or any of the other tools of my trade. The only restriction the King has placed is that you are not to be marred." He saw the quiver of a shudder that the girl suppressed. "Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Master Sade." She said quietly. "I do as I'm told or you will punish me."

"You are a very intelligent female, I was not aware the mortals were still breeding intelligent females…" he observed. "Let us hope it serves you well." He moved to the chair and took his seat. "You are now _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_, and you belong to the King of the Goblins alone… it is your duty to please him in any way he desires." Donatien let his eyes moved down her body. "I can well understand his desires to keep you…for a human you are beautiful."

Sarah looked at him with suspicion, but kept her voice still.

"Perhaps if the King tires of you…" He saw fire rise in her green eyes, and snickered. "Let us begin with the training, walk…"

"I beg your pardon?" she blinked. 

He forgave the fact that she had not addressed him properly; he could afford to be generous at this moment. "I need to see you walk, how you move is important." His long elegant hand motioned her to walk about the room. "Not bad… good movement and poise….Yes,…" He stood. "If you pay close attention, and do as you are told, we will have you properly trained and ready for display in less than the five weeks the King has given me."

Sarah looked over her shoulder at him, "I beg your pardon, Master Sade, but what do you mean ready for display?"

"The King intends to take you with him to Avalon when he goes for the Winter Solstice festival…" The master said calmly, pleased that this time she'd recalled the importance of addressing him by his title. 

Sarah looked down at the harness and balanced. "No." she shook her head. She looked at the master as she turned to face him. "No, Master Sade, I will not be paraded before the Fae court in this…thing."

"Of course not," Master Sade mused. "This is a training harness… only the King and your trainer will ever see you in this… and of course your guards my lady _**Tagaan**_." He assured her wittily. "To be presented at the courts you will be dressed provocatively, but you will be dressed. Your nakedness is for Jareth's pleasure, no others."

"Yet he allows you to see me naked, Master Sade." She looked at him though dark lashes. 

"I am here to train you, not to use you." He leered openly. "Were I to use you, the King would never be able to take his pleasures again."

The mask of bravado slipped, "I'll take your word on that, Master Sade."

He snickered, "I will now begin the instructions, let us begin with the harness… it is to teach you to stand at attention. The cuffs and ankle bindings will be replaced with others befitting your station once you are trained. A proper slave of bondage understands the importance of submitting to her or his master's desires to be in control…." Sarah listened to the man speak and for a moment forgot she was standing naked before him. "Your binding cuffs are a sign of your station, and should be worn with great pride." He stepped back. "Now, _**Tagaan**_, walk again."

Sarah took the seriousness of this situation into consideration. The man now held a wicked looking flogger in his hand, and he appeared to know how to use it. She could balk, and be whipped; she could refuse and be punished. Or, she could bid her time take the training and make plans for her retaliations and a possible escape. The cry of Freedom in her blood won, the girl that once had been called Sarah Williams lifted her head, poised herself and walked.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Tanya entered her mother's sitting room sullenly. "You sent for me Mother?"

Duke Winderspire's wife looked up at her daughter with a pleasant smile, put her needlework aside and motioned the young woman to be seated. "Yes, Tanya I did…" she poured tea for both of them from a tray that an Elf servant had brought in. "We have been invited to the Solstice celebrations on Avalon, my dear." Her voice told the girl just how pleased the Duchess was. 

The girl sipped her tea, but shrugged and didn't appear anywhere as elated. "How nice," she murmured softly.

"Tanya," her mother said softly. "King Jareth will be attending also… you may have a chance to improve the way you blundered on Samhain."

"I didn't blunder!" protested the young Fae woman. "I was charming, and he went off sulking like a kicked dog."

"He's a man of many moods… brooding seems to be the one he's in right now." Her mother sighed. "Perhaps he'll be in a better mood come Solstice…. One can not help but pity him… surrounded by those ghastly Goblin creatures day in and day out… no wonder his mood is… dark." She sipped her own tea. "I'm sure a pretty face such as yours can improve his temperament."

Tanya smiled. "I will try, Mama." She painted a pleasant face on to please her mother.

"Of course you will," the Duchess said gently. "May you succeed my daughter."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Talagon stood on a cliff that overlooked the boarder that separated his lands from that of the Goblins. Envy was written on his face, and he crossed his arms in disgust. The rich soils of the border should be his for the taking. Yet the High King had stymied him by placing that spoiled brat upon the throne. Who could have imagined that the boy would actually begin to rule? Every other Fae High Born had failed, but not this one. It irked Talagon that he would have to wait until this one was tired of playing games.

"Looking at our neighbor's back yard again, Father?" Circe's voice sounded behind him.

He didn't bother to turn to look, "I was getting some air."

"You were getting envious," she corrected smugly hooking a hand into his arm. "Not that I blame you… the border is ripe for the taking… and we could use it far better than the Goblins do."

He looked at the young woman at his side, she was every inch his daughter. Not a bit of her mother's nature seemed to have been inherited by the girl. She returned his gaze in kind. "Circe, if that brat does not give up the throne soon…"

"I heard," she interrupted his thoughts swiftly. "That the Goblin King has a new interest, Father… a _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_," she informed him quietly. "I've even heard that King Jareth has re issued a charter to the Guild _**Rhuukarlaan**_," her eyes were now dancing with wicked pleasure. 

"Indeed?" Talagon's interested was raised. He had from time to time had need of the special talents of the secret guild. For the Goblin King to issue a new Charter and to reinstate the Guild was news. "Have you been in contact with our friend in the Guild?"

"Yes," Circe said with a smirk. "Our friend informs me that the Master of the Guild himself is training the King's new toy, and that the Goblin King intends to bring her with him to the Winter Solstice Festival on Avalon."

"We must observe the King and his _**Tagaan**_," Talagon looked back at the longed for border lands. "She may prove his undoing…"

"Or at least a key," Circe said in agreement. 

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Master Donatien entered the circular Throne room, and bowed to his King in a sweeping flourish. "You sent for me, Sire?"

Jareth looked up from the scroll he was reading diligently. "It has been three weeks, how does the student do?" Jareth asked with curiosity. He had not seen Sarah in the days and weeks since he'd deflowered her mouth. The bondage master had discouraged him as the girl was not yet properly trained. Not wanting to disrupt the training, Jareth went along with the plan.

"She learns quickly," the master said with caution. "Almost too quickly… I would be very surprised if she didn't have an escape planned."

"As would I," Jareth quipped. "Is she presentable?"

"Without a doubt," Donatien nodded. "Is the apparel ready for her?"

"Joachim and my leather master have created a piece of attire that will make her stand out from all the rest." The King boasted with a haughty smirk. "None will know she's been pierced, her rings will be for my pleasure alone. I will have the garments sent to your wing for your inspection. You will of course have to instruct her on how to dress…"

Donatien leaned on his walking stick. "I disagree," he stated with poise. "She's far more adept at picking up customs than other mortals have been. I do believe that's due to her mother's chosen vocation… the mother is an actress I'm told."

"Yes, Linda Williams was an actress." Jareth said quietly.

"Was?" Questioned the Master of the Guild; "Is the lady dead? I was not aware that the girls mother had passed…"

"She's not dead," Jareth raised a hand to quiet the other. "Linda Williams is now a paramour of the High King."

"Ah," Donatien smirked widely. "That should be interesting… for both of them…" The smile faded slightly. "You intend to display the daughter dressed as a sex slave before the mother? Do you think that prudent?"

"Not a bit," Jareth chuckled darkly. "However I will make it impossible for either of them to connect."

"Wicked," the Mater growled deep in the back of his throat. 

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Sarah was looking out the window of the west wing when Donatien returned. He saw something in her that was of quality, and moved to her side without sound. "What is of such interest to you _**Tagaan**_," he asked.

"There seems to be so much more to this Kingdom than I experienced upon my first visit, Master Sade." She said. "It's strange, but I feel…connected to the Labyrinth and the lands surrounding it."

"Do you?" He looked out the window as well. "It's a strange and wonderful land, and you are now very much a part of it…and its history." He pointed to a steep range of mountains. "That is where the Harpies now dwell…they too were refugees, like many of the races you'll find here."

"What keeps them all here?" she asked softly, mostly to herself not realizing she'd uttered the question aloud.

"Freedom," Donatien whispered in her ear. 

"I am not free," she looked down at the harness. 

"You do not as yet understand the power of a _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_," the master of the guild informed her. "You know how to move, and you know how to behave… but you've yet to learn how to be in command."

"The slave has no command," she challenged.

"The slave is the control; the wise slave has power over the master." His voice tantalized her imagination as it was meant to. "Until you give up this foolish idea of escape and accept your station, you will never have power."

Lifting her chin defiantly she looked at the Master. "Who says I'm planning an escape?"

Donatien shook his head, sighing. "You do, _**Tagaan**_, you do." Turning he walked to the center of the training room. "Let us review…"

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Bryn looked at the gowns and finery that Devon had sent to her rooms for her approval for the journey to Avalon. If nothing else the man had a good eye, and understood what would and would not work on her. She heard the tapping at the door and looked up to find Devon looking in with a pleasant smile. "The Festival is still a week away," she said looking at the gowns again. "How am I to ever decide in that time what to wear?"

"If I may be of assistance," he said entering her rooms for the first time. "I would suggest this for travel," he pointed to one outfit, "I suggest this one for the grand ball, it will bring out that lovely mossy green in you eyes." He lifted a dress in a shade of sapphire that Bryn would never have chosen herself. "This for day wear…and this." He moved through the gowns quickly. Handing them to be packed by the maid he'd hired to tend to Bryn.

"I agree." She said relieved she didn't have to face this task alone. "Thank you my Lord Baron."

Devon pouted, "I should think such a favor would be deserving of more than a mere thank you." 

Bryn noticed the maid had excused herself and they were now alone in her rooms; "Oh really?"

He smoothly placed a hand to her waist, "Come Bryn," he pleaded tenderly. "Give us a kiss." Persistently he nuzzled her. "Come, come, and give us a kiss."

Bryn resisted; "Take back the gowns…" she pulled free of his touch. "I'm not for sale."

Devon stood back, surprised and a bit hurt. "I never said you were."

"Then don't treat me as if I were…" she warned. "I'm not a whore, my Lord Baron."

"No, you're not." He agreed reaching for her hands. "I… just wanted… a kiss…nothing more…I swear."

"I don't like the idea of playing kissing games in the chamber I sleep in." She stated clearly. "It sends the wrong signal."

Devon looked at the room, and seeing her point, pulled her gently out to the hall. "Will this due better?"

Bryn looked into the face of the man who was really trying to be less self-centered and self-seeking; "Actually, yes." She sighed as she moved into his embrace. "Thank you."

"I've promised you," he said as his head rested on hers. "I will not force you, nor rush you…. When we bed, it will be because you are ready to be with me."

"And after," she whispered softly; "What of after?"

Devon tipped her face up to his. "Perhaps we shall live happily ever…after." He lowered his lips to hers softly.

Bryn returned the soft kiss in kind.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Daisy entered the Scribes private rooms, "Uncle!" she called out. Lutin answered very quickly.

"Captain, I had not thought we'd see you so close to the journey…I'd have thought you had much to prepare for…" Lutin was proud his brother's child was so important in the palace.

"How many of the scrolls has the King read thus far?" She demanded.

Lutin frowned now. "Not nearly as many as I would wish." He pointed to the chamber where the scrolls were laid out. "He keeps jumping around, asking for this and that."

Daisy took off her helmet and tossed it violently across the room and watched as it crashed against the wall. "I swear!" she growled in anger. "I will not stand by and allow the past to become the present!" She turned to her Uncle and warned him. "There is no time to waste; you must direct him to the passages that are important. Have him read the scrolls, any way you can."

"He's preoccupied," Lutin defended himself from her tirade. "He's not playing games, Daisy…he's trying to save the Kingdom."

"All the more reason," she said moving to retrieve her helmet; "That you need to direct his reading to the correct scrolls… don't let him pick and choose…. We don't have the luxury, and neither does he." She placed the dented helmet back upon her head. "He needs to have the information that will save him and her."

"I'm doing my best," Lutin protested.

Daisy flashed him a look that spoke more than the words she then said. "Our best may not be enough…it wasn't before…."

Lutin looked at the scrolls, "You leave in two days time… he'll be here in the morning…I'll direct him to the passages that deal with the presentation of the _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_," he promised.

"Good, that will at least give him food for thought." Daisy said in resignation. "I'm off to the kitchens…the training has given the girl the appetite of a Goblin." She jested lightly.

Lutin chuckled. "I suggest you stay away from peaches…." Both of them chuckled.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Donatien stood back and assessed the girl's appearance. She stood transfixed before the full length mirror, her mouth agape. "You seem surprised," he observed. 

"I am, Master Sade…I am…" she reached out her hand toward the reflection that looked back. "Is that really me?"

Standing behind her and looking at the looking glass as well he smiled with pride. "More than you ever were."

Sarah blinked, the creature in the mirror also blinked. "Covered and yet revealed." She gasped.

"You are…_** Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_," he breathed at her ear. "Now," he snapped his fingers for her to be attentive, when she looked at him, he moved toward a tray that was covered. "As a graduate of the training, it is my pleasure to award you with these." He pulled the covered off the tray. There were wrist band cuffs and ankle bands, fur lined and ornately decorated with the symbols of the King's great seal and the amulet he wore proudly. "No other but the _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_, herself may wear these."

Sarah looked down at the bands. "I have to admit, they are beautiful," she picked up the ankle band. "Hail Ceaser…." She said before attaching it to her ankle and then the other. 

Donatien stood back and watched, knowing she was still up to something; "_**Tagaan**_, a suggestion." She looked at him while she fastened the wrist bands. "Before you strike, stop… look… and listen….you may find that the one you think of as your enemy is not."

Sarah considered his words. "Master Sade, may I ask you a question?"

"You may, _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_," he said silkily.

"What did you get out of this arrangement?"

"Validity," he said firmly. Sarah looked thoughtful and he questioned her. "What troubles you?"

"Something someone said to me long ago…." She looked at the Master of the Guild. "I was told when I came here the first time that nothing is as it seems…."

"That is true," he agreed looking at the girl in her beautiful slave's garments. "One looking at you would never guess that you are the girl who beat the Labyrinth…"

Sarah looked at her reflection, and pondered the deeper meaning of his words. "And perhaps, Master Sade…that is a good thing."

"Indeed, _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_," he nodded. "Indeed." He moved to stand behind her. "I have given you the training that you will need… may you use it well." He strode off his long black robe billowing as he moved. "Enjoy your visit to Avalon, but be watchful…remember what I've said."

Sarah stared in the mirror, and nodded. "Where anything is possible, and nothing is as it seems." She whispered, the reflection whispered as well. "And nothing is as it seems."


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30.A Solstice on Avalon**

The Goblin Kingdom's representatives were to arrive on Avalon's shores in a style that was unlike anything the ancient Isle Kingdom had ever witnessed. Fanfare and spectacle were something the Fae knew well, and expected. However, never before had the Goblin Kingdom put on such a show; Jareth hand never seen a need to. If and when he attended a state function, he usually arrived on his own and departed quickly. Yet since his declaration before the courts in the presences of his subjects, he was beginning to see the need to make a statement with his arrival.

He and Devon had arrived alone with only personal guards for Samhain. This time he wanted to dazzle the senses of the Fae Court. He desired that there be something more spectacular than even his arrival on Dragon back. This time the Goblin King needed to arrive in a state coach, and with proper attendants. From the moment he'd employed Donatien to train Sarah; he'd been working on the rest of his staging of this production. It had been Philo who had supplied the King with the seeds of the idea, and Philo who had informed the King that everything he needed for a truly unforgettable arrival was at his fingertips.

Jareth had asked Philo to open the west wing rooms that had been used in the training of Zoltarie's human slave. Philo had been more excited than the King had expected him to be, but Jareth had not asked the man what it was that was driving that excitement. Hours after the arrival of the Guild's members, Philo reported to the King in the circular throne room.

"The Guild has arrived, my King." Philo tucked his hands into the sleeves of his robes.

Jareth, lounging in the massive throne smiled. "Good," he tapped his chin with the riding crop in his hand. "Once the girl is properly trained she will make quiet a spectacular addition to my train on Solstice." He sighed. "It's time the High Court got a good look at the Goblin Court."

"Indeed," Philo agreed. "And what better way to demonstrate your authority then with a beautiful _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_ upon your arm, just as the last Goblin King did?"

Lowering his feet from the side rail swiftly, Jareth looked at the steward of his palace in surprise. "Zoltarie and his_** Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_ attended the High Court?" The Goblin King shook his head, "I don't recall any mention of that."

"It was a bit before your birth I believe." Philo commented lightly. "But it is a part of our lore, and some of us remember the story well."

"Tell me," leaned on his thigh, motioning his steward to speak.

"It was the first Solstice after the time of famine," recalled the Hobgoblin reflectively. "It was a time of great celebration for all the courts; but a time of honor for the Goblin courts, as we played a larger part than most in the movement to save the Underground and Fairylands." There was more smugness in his tone than he'd ever allowed himself to show before the King up to now. He would not have even broached this subject with the King until recently, seeing the changes that had taken place in the young Fae King. He was now more Goblin than some Goblins, Philo deemed. "Zoltarie was to be honored for his efforts by the High King himself."

"Really?" Jareth frowned. "Why is it I've never read, or been told of this?"

"There were Fae who didn't see his presences in their courts as being… proper…" Philo said carefully, not wishing to insult the Fae born King. "You must understand, Sire… Zoltarie was not one to suffer fools well, and a good many of the Fae were rather foolish. He had used the resources of our Kingdom to save the entire underworld… and the Fairylands, some of them felt he should have felt honored in that fact alone… that he had no need to be praised or honored by their courts."

"Oberon invited him to Avalon," Jareth stated coldly, angry with the Fae who were most likely the same ones who looked down their noses at him. "No other has a right to question the actions of the High King…"

"Right or not, they not only questioned, but gave insult to the Goblin Court." Philo stated quietly. "You see Sire, they didn't and most likely still do not see us as a genuine bona fide Kingdom… most Fae see us as a provincial colony or province at best," he shook his head in disappointment. "We were a Kingdom long before some of the surrounding Kingdoms! We settled here in the Underground long before the Fairy mists!"

An expression of solemnity was now borne by the young King. "I recall when my father placed me on this throne; he said to never underestimate the heart and soul of the Goblin races." He looked down at the stone tiles of the throne room floor. "He said that he had good reasons for placing me here after the long succession of Fae King's who'd spent so little time upon this throne… none ever left an heir…"

"Until you, my King, none has loved this kingdom the way Zoltarie had." Philo strode nearer with steady steps. "He was the most amazing of all the Goblin Kings… a pure bred Hobgoblin, with the heart and soul of a true warrior, and a poet's way with words."

"Pure bred Hobgoblin?" Jareth questioned softly, he considered the implications. "That explains his height; he must have been nearly as tall as I am… I was able to wear his Harpy winged cape with ease."

"Yes," Philo said cautiously. "I'd say you and he were of a similar height."

"Tell me Philo, did he wear the Harpy cape to the Solstice celebration?" Jareth's face looked like a child listening to a tale of wonder, full of awe and excitement.

"He did," the Steward recalled. "I've a record of all the items used in the grand procession, just as Lutin has a record of the actual ceremony."

"Items used in the grand procession?" Jareth stood up. "What grand procession?"

"Why the Goblin King's procession… you didn't think he arrived on Dragon back for such an honor, did you?" Philo moved even closer. "See in your mind's eye this if you will, three coaches of handsomely carved oak, drawn by Gryphon teams, and driven by Mountain Goblin's dressed in the finest Goblin leather uniforms ever imagined. One hundred field Goblins marching as a unit, and carrying the finest Goblin swords ever forged. The King, in full regalia toped by a Harpy wing cape, surrounded by the highest members of his personal court, not the show court mind you, but his personal court and most trusted advisors… on his arm the dazzling beauty of the _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_. Oh it was magnificent, Sire… truly magnificent."

Jareth moved closer, "Philo," he breathed deeply, eyes wide with excitement and planning. "Didn't you tell me we have vaults full of the belongings of the previous kings?" The steward nodded knowingly. "Then, do we also have the King's carriages in storage?" he asked as if it were too much to hope for.

"We do," Philo said, knowing that he had planted seeds in a fertile mind.

Placing a gloved hand to his brow, Jareth began to pace. "A procession the likes of which the present high court has not seen…." He muttered softly, stopping short and frowning. "But where would I find Gryphon teams enough to pull three coaches?"

"I should ask Captain Daisy that question, Sire." Philo said innocently. "She is rather fond of the creatures."

"We have Gryphons?" Amazed the King turned to look at his steward.

Philo nodded, "As large a hidden herd as that of which Zoltarie boasted."

"What condition is the tack in?" Jareth asked excitedly.

"Perfect," Philo acknowledged.

Happily the Goblin King patted the back of the Hobgoblin standing with him. "Well old man, don't just stand there. Go have those things pulled out! I want them dusted off and made to sparkle… The Goblin Court is about to dazzle the Fae Court!" He moved swiftly to the corridor and called back. "I'm going to the scribe to study the scrolls on the procession… I want to out shine even Zoltarie!"

Philo saw Daisy standing in the shadows; "Captain, the ball is now in your Uncle's court."

The Goblin woman, who'd been leaning on a wall just out of sight of the King, moved forward, her arms crossed akimbo over her armored chest. "It's moving at least in the right direction now…Let us see if we can keep the King on course."

Jareth entered the scribe's sanctuary and noticed a flurry of movement. "Lutin, is something going on here that I need to be made aware of?" He pointed to the smaller lesser ranked woodland Goblins who were moving about.

"Reorganizing some of the holding chambers," Lutin stated motioning a crew to get to work. "From time to time the shelves need to be restacked and the scrolls replaced or updated." He moved forward. "Is there something you need, Sire?"

"Yes," Jareth nodded as he took his now usual seat at the wide table. "I need the history of the Procession of Zoltarie and his Court to the isle of Avalon."

"Of course," Lutin bowed and moved into an alcove. He returned with three large scrolls for the King's reading. "These are the ones requested, happy reading Sire." He went back about his business of ordering his crews about.

Jareth leaned forward to read, he was pleased that Goblins, Hobgoblins at least, were very fastidious in the keeping or records. Every detail was there for the taking; from the list of attendants, to the very garments worn, everything. Jareth called for the scribe and began to dictate notes to him.

Devon on the morning of the procession found Bryn and her maid not only packed and ready to go, but watching at the door of the stately home for the carriage that the King was sending for them. He smiled, seeing the girl's anticipation. "Cariad," he called softly to her, when she turned to look at him he smiled broadly. "The coach will be here when it gets here and no sooner."

"I'm sorry, but I can't help but feel excited… Avalon…" she whispered the High King's isles' name with reverence. "You've no idea of what it means to me."

"Nonsense," He said taking a seat on the grand staircase in his foyer. "I know exactly what the word means to you and ever other person of Welsh blood." He extended a hand to her. "Come, sit with me."

Bryn accepted the hand offered, and moved to sit on the stair below the one he was perched on. "Baron," she held his hand in her gloved pair. "I'm a little nervous… I would not wish to embarrass you or myself…"

Devon looked at her, dressed in the sapphire blue traveling coat and bonnet. "You can do nothing to discredit me, or embarrass either of us." He complemented her.

"You're prejudice," she mewled.

Devon snorted, "I am indeed." He laughed lightly.

Mrs. Finch came rushing to the front hall, letting both of them know the coach had been spotted coming up the road. She hugged Bryn goodbye and told her to have a lovely time. She gave a warning glace at the Baron, who ignored the look while he ushered Bryn to the carriage the King had sent.

Jareth knew that Sarah was in the west wing, being given her last minute instructions from the master of the guild. He wondered if she were as ready as Donatien had said she was, or if she were just playacting as she had done as a child in that park. He moved toward the west wing, found both Daisy and Della standing guard outside the door. Donatien had just bid the girl farewell and bowed to the King as he exited the training rooms.

The master of the guild stood silently watching as the Fae born Goblin King entered the rooms. He cast a look at Daisy, and inclined his head. Daisy's expression was one of assured confidence. Della, unsure of the unspoken exchange, glared at both. She didn't like feeling like she was an outsider. However she understood that these two were of the Goblin races and had closer connections, so she held her asp like tongue.

Jareth moved on light feet, about to call out when he saw the woman standing at the looking glass. Her emerald green eyes caught sight of him in the reflection; gracefully she turned to acknowledge him. The Goblin King halted in his steps, staring at the vision before him. If this was the way Zoltarie dressed his slave, he could well understand why the man had been so obsessed with her. The woman at the mirror was clad in yards upon yards of gauzy skirting in shades of blues and purple that seemed to shimmer and fade from one color into another as she moved showing the long elegantly shaped legs. Her long thick tresses had been pulled up to the top of her head and were held in a round clasp that bore the King's emblem. Matching veils of the same shads of blue and purple were flowing out of the clasp. Bands at her elbows and wrist were decorated with rings that clipped the flowing veil to her extended arms. Her breast were covered in a cage of Goblin gold metal work that was exquisite to look at, for modesty a layer of satin in the same hue of purple as the top layer of her skirting had been added. Yet the King could see how it could be easily removed for his private pleasure. The Hip-band that held her skirting to her curves was made of the same Goblin gold, and worked in the same pattern. Both the bra and the belt held the emblems of the King. The King could see that the skirt was actually two gathering of material one for the front of his slave and one that covered her shapely derrière. On her feet were soft slippers in the same shade of purple satin as the modesty panels of her bra. The woman walked away from the mirror, moving toward the King with her head held high, looking more like a Queen than a slave.

They stood looking at one another; each seemed to be appraising the other. Jareth's face held the same expression it had in that crystal ball room when he'd moved to take her into his arms to dance. He was perhaps more confidant than he'd been that night, this time it was she who came to him, not the other way around. Sarah's face on the other hand was a far cry from the innocence and awed expression she'd worn that night. Today she was no longer an innocent, but the King's _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_.

"I've brought you a gift," he murmured, in the same tone he'd used when he'd said those words in her brother's nursery. "Do you want it?"

"What is it?" She asked softly, but not flinching or giving an inch.

He held up his hand, a metal collar of the same Goblin gold was in his grasp. He dangled it before her. "I want everyone who looks upon you to know and understand…you belong to me."

Sarah looked at the collar, it was better than having a leather collar she mused. "As if there could be a question," she quipped looking at the dangling gold metal work. "It's very pretty, Sire. Your gold smiths are truly artists."

Moving behind her he slipped it about her throat, and then fastened it on at the back of her long elegant neck. He bent forward, on a whim and placed his lips to her bare shoulder. "Ghegann…" he whispered hoarsely. "Ghec duulkac."

Sarah shivered, whether it had been his nearness, or his words she was not sure. Donatien had insisted on her learning basic Goblin words, and she understood what the King had said. He had claimed her… he had said, 'mine…my woman.' In the oldest of Goblin dialects, in a tone that was beyond possessive, it was dominant and officious. She tipped her face to look at him, and was surprised to find him looking at her waiting for a reaction. Donatien had told her that the true power was with the slave, but had to be used judiciously. "Thank you, Sire." She murmured placing a hand on the metal collar.

Jareth turned her, "_**Tagaan**_, have you no kiss for your lord and master?" Tilting her face upward Sarah rose up on tip toe and gently brushed her lips to his. The King placed one hand to her back, holding her to him. "Duulakac," he murmured darkly. Stepping back he extended his arm to her, "I will enter the halls of Avalon with you on my arm, and I shall be the envy of all who see you."

"Is not a slave to walk behind her master?" She questioned, knowing what Donatien had taught her.

"You are no ordinary slave," He waited until her hand was on his arm. "You are _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_ of the Goblin King. WE will make our own rules, you and I. It will pleasure me to have you on my arm… "

Of this Sarah was sure. Never had she seen anyone who could make the outfits he wore look like an exercise in erotica as he did with such ease. He exuded sexual magnetism, and even while she had plotted her escape she found herself drawn to him. He was not the wild haired, boyish King she had met four years ago. Now he was more mature, and more dangerous. But this was his game, and she was unsure of the rules as yet, so going along with him seemed the wisest choice. "As you wish my lord," she murmured demurely.

"Besides," he quipped as they moved toward the exit. "It will far harder for you to stab my back if you are on my arm."

Sarah looked at him sideways, and thought to herself. 'Want to bet?'

Daisy and Della fell into step as the pair entered the corridor. The honor guards were awaiting them in the main hall and escorted them to the carriages that awaited the King and his Tagaan_** or Rhuukarlaan**_. Jareth noted the look of surprise in Sarah's eyes as they approached the coaches that were to be driven by teams of Gryphons.

"Are they real?" she asked halting her steps.

"As real as you and I," Jareth said proudly. "Daisy tells me we've quite a herd of the beasties."

Sarah turned to look over her shoulder at her guard; "Is that true?"

Daisy, dressed in her best uniform nodded. "Goblins are rather fond of them." She informed the woman. "We protected them when they were endangered of extinction; along with some other species." She pointed to the myriad of winged beasts being mounted by the Goblin forces. Daisy took her place on the coach, as Della moved forward to where two other Harpies in matching harnesses awaited her.

Jareth watched as one of his coachmen opened the door for the couple. He held his hand up to Sarah to help her to enter the coach. She took the hand, gratefully and entered the opening of the handsome carriage. She settled in her seat and watched as Jareth gave orders to his legions. He then entered the carriage himself and settled in beside her as the coachman closed the hinged door. He could feel the excitement that the girl was experiencing upon the first crack of the whip that urged the large beasts to move forward and upward into the sky. He pointed out the window beside her and urged her to watch as they moved upward.

Sarah did as directed, and was not disappointed, the lift off was exhilarating. She turned to look at the King, "Wow."

Jareth chuckled, surprised at how her pleasure could please him. He was still angry with her, but it was quickly being replaced by something more powerful. He wanted her. He wanted all of her…her body, her mind, her soul… her heart. After all, he already held her dreams….

Oberon watched as the endless processions of guests arriving began. Next to him sat his wife wearing a painted on smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. He could not reproach or condemn her for that. He too was bored to tears. Every year it was the same thing over and over, and over. No one among the Fae seemed to have a new idea or an original concept. Every single one of the guests seemed to have been cut from the same cookie cutter.

"How much more do we need to endure," Tatiana muttered under her breath.

"We are nearly done," Oberon muttered back. "Talagon, then the Winderspire family."

The Queen looked at him, "I had thought Jareth was going to be here."

"I image he is otherwise occupied." A grin spread to the king's lips, and his eyes danced wickedly.

However the Queen didn't seem to be nearly as amused. "Surely you told him how important it was that he…be here." She turned her attention to the approach of Lord Talagon and his daughter Circe. "My Lord, how nice to see you… and your daughter." She greeted the pair politely if not enthusiastically.

Talagon bowed deeply, with a flourish he felt made him look far courtlier than other Fae lords. "My good Queen," he would have preferred to have bowed over the Queen's hand but as it was not extended to him, he made due.

Circe noted the cool reception given by the Queen. While her father would gladly suffer the scorn of the High King and Queen, the girl was of a different opinion of Fae Royalty. She too was cool, but polite. "How kind of you to invite us to join you," she said as she dipped in a curt curtsey. There was no more exchange of words, and the father and daughter moved on.

Duke Winderspire, his wife and Tanya moved forward to greet the High Royals. The Duke smiled warmly at the High King, who had been a friend as well as his sovereign; "A most happy Solstice, my King…and to you dear lady." His voice was congenial and more pleasant to the ears than that of the last guest before the King and Queen.

The Duchess and Tanya both curtseyed at the same time, both dressed in shades of rose, looked very impressive. The mother moved forward extending her hands to the High Queen. "Happy Solstice!"

"And to you, dear," the High Queen said happily before turning to Tanya who had been named somewhat after her. "How pretty you look today, Tanya."

"Thank you," blushed the girl with pretty blue eyes twinkling.

Duke Winderspire, having removed his silk gloves placed one hand holding the gloves behind his back. "I don't see your boy," he commented lightly to the High King. "I'd have thought that King Jareth would be here in the receiving line with you."

"The Goblin Throne seems to be on a time scheduling all its own." Oberon said just as lightly, not taking offense.

Tanya began to pout slightly. "You mean he's not coming?" she could not hold back her disappointment. "I was so hopping to see him again…"

"I'm sure he'll make an appearance and dance your pretty feet off." Her father quipped.

Oberon looked at Winderspire, 'Ah Old Friend...don't put money on THAT!', he thought to himself knowing what or rather who would most likely be occupying the Goblin King's time. "Windy," he addressed the duke warmly. "I hear you've been getting in some hunting."

"Ah to be sure," the Duke went with the change of subject easily. "We've some lovely white pheasants and peacocks starting to roost."

Above, standing on a balcony watching the spectacle from a safe distance stood the Actress, Linda Williams. More than once both the King and Queen and looked up at her and given her a warm smile. Linda had to admit, if anyone had told her she'd be watching all this with only mild amusement she'd have laughed in their face. Oberon had made her feel like a princess in her own right, giving her rooms in his wing of the palace, and making sure she was cared for like a Royal. He had explained to her that while she was a delight to him, he could not have her standing in the receiving line. It was not protocol. Right now, she was glad he had not asked her to take any part in the endless receiving of the guests. She was happy to be on her balcony watching. The sound of wind and wings alerted her that something was about to take place that was out of the ordinary. She looked into the sky excitedly.

The Duke and his family moved off the dais, Oberon turned to Tatiana with a look of utter relief. He rose to his feet, extended his hand to her, and heard the first of many gasps. Looking the direction of the faces frozen in awe, he could see why. The sky was filled with the shapes of Dragons, Rocs, Perytons, Hippogriffs and other winged creatures…all lead by a lone Phoenix, all ridden by various Goblins from every walk of Goblin Life. At least one hundred of the winged creatures filled the skies over the isle. Behind the winged creatures as they landed swiftly were three coaches. The first coach held Devon and his companion, Bryn. They walked up the carpet to the dais quickly, bowed and moved off to one side. Devon had schooled Bryn on the court protocol and she had learned her lessons well. They were followed by the representatives of the Goblin Court, including the Lady Rosalind, and her escort.

Again the eyes went to the sky; three Harpies appeared followed by an ornately carved coach pulled by Gryphons and driven by uniformed Hobgoblins. As the coach landed, Devon whispered in Bryn's ear. "Watch this," he smiled as he spoke.

Daisy hopped off the back of the coach, and stood guard as the coachmen opened the carriage. Jareth stepped out of the carriage looking more majestic and regal in his splendid Goblin Regalia, his King's circlet at a slight cocky tilt upon his brow. His long dark cape fluttering as he turned; extended his hand to the coaches only other occupant. He heard the gasps and the mutterings of shock as the woman alighted and took her place at his side. Schooling his features, he led her toward the dais.

Still standing, and with his hand slightly extended to the High Queen, Oberon heard his own breath catch. He dropped the hand, and watched as his son approached looking more confidant and dynamic compelling and powerful than he'd ever seen him. Oberon knew that the High Queen had risen to her feet as well, staring at the sight of the duo coming forward.

Bryn bit down on her lip, and watched holding her breath. Devon at her ear whispered, 'Breathe,' while he smiled as his cousin's approach toward the High Throne.

Sarah kept her eyes down on the carpet they were walking.

Linda stood watching, and knew the creature of unspeakable beauty was none other than her own daughter. "Sarah," she whispered, afraid to call out the name. The sight of her daughter in the elaborate slaves costume caused Linda's knees to collapse under her and she sunk to the floor of the balcony, glad she didn't have to see more.

Jareth bowed, and Sarah curtseyed while keeping her hand on his arm. Oberon looked down at the King, looking like he'd just sucked a lemon. "Jareth," he muttered under his breath.

The boy King didn't bother looking up just muttered back in the same undertone, "Father."

Tatiana looked from father to son, to the woman and then out at the Fae. "We are becoming a spectacle." She warned placing a hand to her husband arm, urging him. "Do something."

"Welcome, King Jareth." The High King said in a warm voice, but the warmth ended at his lips and didn't migrate to his eyes.

Jareth rose, pulling Sarah up with him. "The Goblin Nation extends its greeting to the High King and Queen." He said formally.

Oberon looked up toward the balcony, suddenly remembering Linda. Seeing she was no longer standing there, he wondered where she'd gotten to, and if she were in a stable frame of mind. He looked back at the Goblin King, trying to remember that this was being observed by his court and guests. "We are glad you could join us." He could feel the High Queen's fingers gripping like a claw. "And who is this pretty creature?" He said calmly.

Sarah stood with her eyes downcast; Donatien had said she was to behave demurely in the presences of the Fae. She heard the High King's voice, and could feel the power of his being. But it was Jareth who seemed to command her attention, he had done nothing more than raise her hand when rose from his bow. Yet it was more than enough for her to understand what he expected of her.

Jareth looked at Sarah, eyes still cast downward, but he had noticed a slight heightening of color in her cheeks. 'Still a bit defiant, how delightful,' he mused. "This is my personal slave." He said, seeing the girl stiffen slightly at the implied insult.

Tatiana's eyes darted about looking at the crowd, but not moving her head otherwise. "And what is her name?" The Queen inquired politely; when what she really wanted to do was give her step son a good swift kick.

"For now," Jareth said coldly. "She will answer to _**Tagaan**_," pivoting slightly he lowered his hand and the next sentence cracked like a whip. "Is that not so, _**Tagaan**_?"

Raising her head ever so slightly, the woman turned her green eyes to the King. "Yes, sire." She hissed through pursed lips.

"Oh dear," fretted the High Queen.

Sarah heard, and turned her eyes up to the Queen. She wished with all her heart she could spare the woman of whom legends had been written the embarrassment that Jareth was forcing. AS if it offer a olive branch she whispered softly toward the High Queen. "I am sorry, ma'am."

Before Jareth could react to the slave speaking out of turn, Oberon moved down the steps and took the girls chin into his hand. "She's very pretty, Jareth… One can easily see how you'd be…infatuated." Sarah looked up; the man had a face like a God, and eyes that were warm as mulled wine. Oberon kept his hand under her chin as he addressed his son. "Beware; my boy… a treasure like this should not be handled with brute force or brusquely." Releasing the girl's face, he stepped back. "I formally declare the celebrations to begin." He held his hands up, as he opened the festival. Turning to his Queen he extended her his arm, moving to lead the processions into the palace.

Sarah caught a glimpse of Bryn on the arm of the Baron as she was led into the palace on Jareth's arm. Just knowing her friend was looking well cared for was enough for the girl. She looked about with long sweeping glances. This was not the place for confrontations, or escapes. She would bide her time, perform like a good little slave for now. Once she was back in the Goblin Kingdom she would begin looking for a way to secure her own and Bryn's freedom.

Oberon found his wife standing in an alcove, and joined her. "There is going to be trouble." He warned her. "I've ordered Linda to stay to her rooms, but I doubt she'll listen."

The High Queen looked sad and worried. "He's so stubborn!" she spat out angrily. "He could have at least been decent about…"

"He's angry," Oberon observed softly taking a seat on a bench. "In his mind he's being more than accommodating, he did after all present the creature clothed."

"Clothed?" The woman raged. "You call that outrageous… clothed?"

"Tattie," he used a pet name to address her and get her attention. "Did you not recognize that outrageous little costume?"

"Recognize it? Should I?" She pursed her lips and tapped her chin with a long finger.

"He called her _**Tagaan**_," Oberon observed. "Tattie, that's Goblin for Slave… and if I'm not mistaken… her entire title is _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_ of the Goblin King."

The High Queen moaned and closed her eyes tightly; "Dear Goddess not again."

Oberon sighed, "I'm afraid so…" He held his hand out to his wife. "I really should have been more careful… It is my own folly that put him on that throne."

"It is his birthright," Tatiana murmured supportively. "And he is loved by his subjects."

"Yes, he is;" Agreed the High King, sitting quietly with his wife. "However he has opened a can of worms…"

Leaning on her husbands shoulder the Queen shook her head. "I would say he had help in opening that can. A _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_ of the Goblin King," her voice darkened. "Will you tell him?"

"No," Oberon said firmly. "Not just yet… I will however look more carefully into the background of this young woman… this _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_ of the Goblin King."

The High Queen sat up, snapping to attention. "Oberon, Linda…."

"Yes, dear, Linda;" He agreed sighing darkly. "This is going to be a long celebration… and we'd best be vigilant."

Jareth was shown to his apartments; Sarah was still on his arm, silent. He motioned the palace's servants off, telling them his own would see to his needs. He watched as Sarah moved quietly in the sitting room of the suite of rooms. "I image, I should be glad you don't have a weapon availed right now…"

Sarah turned and glared at him. "Who are you trying to embarrass? Me or the High King?" There was a warning in her tone. "I'm beyond caring…" she snapped. "There is nothing more you can do to me…You've taken my dreams and my innocence…"

"Mind your tongue," he counseled with a sneer. "It will be your undoing."

Trying to recall Donatien's words, she turned and paced to no avail. "What kind of monster are you?" she railed.

Fury filled his eyes; his hand gripped her forearm and pulled her roughly against him. "This kind," he growled as his lips took hers with a savagery. She struggled but he was still stronger than she. "We've time before we have to appear…" he snarled. "Why don't we play one of our games…"

"No," Sarah refused his advances turning her face away. "I'll scream, I swear, I'll scream…"

Jareth savagely thrust his hand into her long dangling hair, pulling her toward his bedchamber. "Scream all you want, bitch." He growled. "I long ago put a silence spell upon this chamber. I doubt anyone will hear your screams except for me, and you know that your wailing is music to my ears." He laughed harshly as he flung her toward the bed. She fell short of the bed, landing on the floor beside it. In three long steps he was across the floor.

Devon walked with Bryn on his arm in the Queen's garden, introducing her to a few of his acquaintances. She listened as he discussed matters of interest with these people who smiled at her as if she were a long time companion of the Baron's. She was treated with polite smiles and soft inquirers of how she was enjoying her day. Bryn would smile back, and answer inquires with the same polite tones.

Devon plucked a rose, and tenderly handed it to the girl. "It pales compared to you, my dear." He simpered.

"You're being silly." She teased. "I am no where as beautiful as the Queen's roses." She looked at the garden and sighed. "This is paradise. It's perhaps the loveliest garden I've seen since my gran's."

"Would you like to recreate your gran's garden?" He asked softly. "I would be very happy to undertake that effort."

"Your house and my gran's garden don't exactly suit each other… it was perfect for her little cottage, but …" Bryn was honest with him and herself.

"I would do anything that would make you happy… even exchange my grand house for a cottage." He said in a rush.

Bryn looked at him, on the verge of making some smart remark, but paused when she saw something in his eyes that perhaps not even he was aware of. "Oh shut up and kiss me, Devon." She said gently. "Kiss me, and mean it."

Bending his head, as he took her into his embrace, the Lord Baron of the Goblin Kingdom lost his heart to the mortal witch for all time. His lips parted hers, his tongue moved slowly against hers, in a gentle tango. The resulting moan came from his throat, and he pulled back shaken. He had not meant for it to happen, but he could not prevent it either, he had marked her. "Bryn," he whispered. "I've never loved…. I've been with women…. Enjoyed their bodies and the pleasures they brought… but I've never loved…. Until now."

"I know…" She touched his face with her gloved hand. "I know."

Enfolding her into his arms, he rested his chin on her head. Right now he had no more words that he would trust coming from his lips. He just wanted to hold the little witch, and be held in return. It was strange; he thought that he would be happy with so little. He could only image the bliss of being intimate with this, his woman. "We'd best retire to our rooms… there is a grand ball this evening…"

"I never get tired of taking you by force," Jareth muttered into her ear as he lay over the girl, pinning her to his bed. His hands were still gripping her wrists in vice like clenches. His hips ground against her as he quickened the pace of his thrusts.

"I hate you," she moaned as he brought her to a climax that had her arching.

He pealed himself off her once he'd appeased the hunger in his loins. "Good," he said as he strutted naked to his bathing chamber. "Now get your lilywhite ass in here and scrub my back."

Sarah looked at the tangled and mangled mess he'd made of her beautiful garments. The skirts were shredded and the gold metal work was distorted and jumbled. She heard him call her in an annoyed tone, demanding her attendance to his needs. Vowing to get even one way or another, the mortal witch entered the bath sullenly.

Linda was pacing the floor of her sitting room like a caged tiger, Oberon watched her for a moment before he cleared his throat to alert her to his presences. Her angry steps had not halted. "I know you're there," she snipped at him. "I could smell you coming down the hall."

"You and Tattie," he teased as he took a seat on the divan. "You intend on wearing out the marble floors?" He watched her pace.

"It may come to that," she said clenching and unclenching her hands into tight little fists. "I'm not at all sure just yet."

"This kind of anger is not good for the baby you carry." He said softly. "I suggest you let it go."

"Did you see that pompous ass?" she demanded glaring at the doors to her balcony. "Did you see how he paraded my daughter before the courts?"

"Yes, dear."

"He's a pig!" Linda bellowed.

"Yes, dear," the King nodded sadly.

Linda began to feel the hormones rage once more, and the tears burst forth. "And you're not going to do a damn thing about it, are you?" She collapsed into his arms and wept bitterly over his shoulder.

"Not at this time, no;" he gently turned her face toward his. "You know yourself, that Sarah and her companions broke laws… they declared a war and lost…he could have paraded her naked before the courts and I'd have been powerless to do anything about it." He kissed her forehead. "I too must obey the rules, my love."

"Oberon, she's a child… she's my child." She pleaded.

Placing his forehead to hers, he whispered reluctantly. "And he is mine."

Linda blinked, pulled back and stared at him. "What?"

Nodding he shrugged. "He's mine…"

"OHhhhhhhhhhhhh," she moved from his lap. "That's…. that's…" she was at a loss for words.

"Linda," he looked at her with a soft expression on his face and in his eyes. "Do you believe in fate?" When she nodded, he winked. "Well think of them as fated."

"She's too good for him," muttered the woman heading once more to her balcony.

Oberon followed, placing his hands on her shoulders and watching the sun set with his Paramour. "On that point we both agree." He kissed her tenderly and whispered in her ear. "I wish with all my heart that I could make this less stressful… do you think you can manage to stay civil enough to come to dinner?"

"I'll try." She sighed.

"There you are!" Tatiana said in an exasperated huff, "Oberon, be good enough to let our Linda go, she and I have to dress…go…go do something…manly." She moved quickly toward the pair and latched onto the hand of the actress. "Go! Come dear, I have a new gown that will just be beautiful on you."

"Tattie, I am not a dress up doll!" Linda protested as she was pulled back to the bed chamber.

"Not much," Oberon said with a smirk before looking again at the sky. "Oh it's going to be a long night."

Talagon looked at Circe, watching her finish her toilette. "Your mother was that fastidious," he commented; "Fussing with every little detail."

"Mother was a fool," the girl said coldly. "Pretty, but still a fool;" rising from her seat and looking at him with icy eyes she spoke firmly. "I am not a fool, and don't ever think me one father. That has been a fatal mistake for other men."

Talagon nodded, "I will never make that mistake, child. Now… what have your palace spies learned?"

"Oberon has a new paramour, a human who is carrying another of his innumerable brats." She said with marked distaste. "I am told even the High Queen likes this one…." She rolled her eyes before continuing. "And the Duke Winderspire has come seeking to make an alliance. I'm told they are interested in a marriage between their air headed daughter and the King's Goblin pup."

Laughing cruelly, Talagon shook his head. "I image the sight of the king's little playmate put a damper on that…."

Tanya stood while her maid laced her into the gown. "I don't see why I should have to get all dressed up… I mean it's not like he'll even see me…"

The Duchess snapped her fingers and the maid departed. Taking the lacing into her own hands she began to fasten up the gown. "Listen to me," she urged. "What ever that creature is to the King, she will never be his Queen… it's not done… You're a Fae, from a good family…good lines…and you have the favor of the High King and Queen."

Tanya wheezed. "Did you see how she was dressed?"

"How she is dressed is of no concern." Her mother warned. "All that matters is that you show yourself to be a candidate for his wife and Queen."

"What if he… impregnates that creature?" Tanya's voice betrayed the dread she felt. "Mother, I don't think I can be as…forgiving as Auntie Tatiana seems to be."

Her mother turned her, and cupped her face. "You'd be surprised what a woman can forgive my dear. Now smile, and think happy thoughts… tonight you will dance with the Goblin King."


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31. Solstice evening**

Bryn sat quietly in the sitting room in the suite of rooms that had been set aside for Devon. She began to realize just what kind of attentions he'd been given all his life. His mother after all was the High King's sister. Being Oberon's nephew meant he was treated with more respect than most other's with the exception of Oberon's children. And Devon had assured Bryn there were many of those.

The rooms were in the family wing of the unbelievably mammoth palace. Bryn mused to herself one could easily get lost here and not be missed for weeks on end. She knew they were not on the same level as the rooms that Jareth would be housed in, but he was a son of the High King and would be in a suite of rooms higher up. It irked her that she was so close to Sarah and yet so far. She would have loved to have been able to reach out to her friend at the ceremony, but that was not to be. Because Jareth was the High King's son, he and his personal slave were kept at a distance even from the rest of the Goblin entourage. And Jareth had disappeared quickly after the procession into the palace, with him went any chance of Bryn being able to see Sarah even for a moment.

Devon had kept his distance, watching Bryn sulk over her missed friend. He sighed, wishing he could ease the pain the young woman was in. But that didn't seem to be possible. It was a wonder to him that a woman so deep in contemplation could look so breathtaking, and yet that is exactly how he wanted to describe Bryn at that moment. She was in a long violet colored gown that looked perfect for her. While it was not exactly a Fae styled gown, it was elegant and sweeping and could have come out of a Jane Austin novel. Her long red gold curls where piled high upon her head, and laced with green ribbons and little violet flowers and ivy leaves. Her feet were in tiny little violet slippers and she looked as if she'd walked through a mirror from a bygone age. Devon sighed heavily, "Bryn, you don't look happy." He said using her given name as he did rarely.

"Devon," she looked at him with a concerned continence. "He's going to keep us apart, isn't he?"

"I warned you that he would," he said coming to sit beside her on the divan she was seated on, taking her hand into his. "Bryn surely you understand that you and Sarah were the power in that little circle of yours. Until he can be sure of Sarah, he will keep you apart, perhaps in time…"

"Time? How much time, a year…two… a hundred?" she scoffed with a pout.

"I will see what I can do…" Devon promised placing an arm about her comfortingly. "I would move the heavens and the earth for you."

Squeezing his hands, she nodded. "I know you would, Devon." She smiled softly. "And I do appreciate it, no matter how I'm behaving right now. I'm not ungrateful to you…. You've been wonderful to me… and I really don't deserve such treatment."

"You look so beautiful this evening," he complemented her in an effort to change the subject. "I shall be the envy of all at the ball." He drank in her beauty; "For I shall be with the loveliest woman there."

"You're a charmer," she snickered forgetting her problems for a moment.

Jareth sat on the edge of his bed, watching the woman at the vanity gather her hair up into the clasp and arranged the cascading locks of hair in a careful manner. He had surprised Sarah with a more demure garment for the evening. The dress was still revealing, but it was far more sedate and respectable than the slave's costume that still lay in tatters on the floor of his suite of rooms. Now she was dressed in a long form fitting gown that looked like it came out of Eddie Abdu's Middle Eastern café. It was claret colored velvet, encrusted with the most exquisite crystal beading that Sarah had ever seen. The beading covered the bra, the arm straps and the peek-a-boo opening that went from her from just under the bra to her navel. It was cut to show off her figure, but not be overly revealing. The long skirt had a slit that only went up to her keen, but the skirt was full enough that it didn't impede walking. There were armbands in the same claret colored velvet that went from her forearms down to her wrists, and attached with a ring to her thumbs. The color of the garment and the veils that she was attaching to the clasp that held her hair complemented the girls coloring. Leaning back on his elbows Jareth admired his acquisition. Even without jewels or costly gowns of silk and brocade, Sarah was beautiful.

"Don't forget your collar," he whispered softly.

"I won't," she said still working on her hair. "It's right here on the vanity where you put it." Leaving the bed, he came to kneel behind her and watch her in the mirror. Sarah paused and looked at him in the mirror. "You're making me nervous…" she said resting her hands on the vanity.

"You're making me…" he kissed her shoulder. "Hungry." She had shivered under his gentle kiss and he whispered as he took her ear lobe in his teeth. "_**Tagaan**_," releasing her ear he let his eyes meet with hers in the mirror.

"I can not finish if you insist on playing games, Sire." She whispered never taking her eyes from his.

"You must wear this pretty outfit again for me…at home." He kissed her shoulder and moved away.

Sarah cursed herself for letting him get to her, her hands shook lightly as she lifted the Goblin gold collar and fastened it to her throat. Rising from the mirrored vanity she turned to the King. "I'm ready."

Jareth finished fastening the last fastener on his tunic of the same color velvet as her gown. He moved to stand before her, his eyes dinking her in like fine wine. "All will envy me…" He murmured; "For I have the greatest treasure upon my arm." Sarah looked up into his eyes; he could tell part of her wanted to throttle his neck. Long gloved fingers stroked her chin, as he masked his features with a haughty countenance. He dropped his hand slowly to pick up one of her hands, he began to turn toward the door when Sarah stopped him.

"Jareth, wait," she said in a breathy tone. He looked into her face and she said. "Something is wrong." She glanced franticly about the room, much the way she had when they were dancing in the crystal ball room he'd created for her. "I can feel it."

He didn't dismiss her fears, or her reservations outright. He tightened his grip on her fingers. "What are you feeling, _**Tagaan**_," he keep his features schooled.

Sarah looked at him, the word should have upset her, but it didn't, if anything it caused her to focus. "Someone here means you great harm."

"Besides you?" He teased gently.

Sarah looked at him before pursing her lips. "What is between you and I, is just that… between you and I… our little private war is ours… This, this is something that reaches beyond you…it extend to even the High King and Queen."

"Woman's intuition?" he asked raising her hand to his lips before bending slightly to kiss the long slender fingers.

"I don't know," she confessed breathily, "I've never experienced anything like this."

The Goblin King embraced her, pulling her snugly against his chest and looked at her with a haughty smile. "Stay alert, keep that mind of yours focused. If you should feel the need to alter me to danger…do so."

Returning the haughty smile with one of her own; Sarah teased the King. "Is that a royal order?"

"A Kingly suggestion," he teased giving her body a gentle squeeze. One hand moved down her back to rest just above her rounded bottom. "You watch my back and I'll watch yours."

Sarah sighed, "Jareth do you have to make everything sound…sexual?"

He snickered as he released her from his embrace; "No, I don't have to…" He offered her his arm.

Sarah placed a hand over his; "This changes nothing," she warned. "My opinion of you has not altered, you are still a thief."

The King nodded; "Understood." He waved his wrist, the door of the chamber opened to the corridor where Daisy in her dress uniform and Della in a modified uniform stood awaiting them.

The guests were gathering in the grand dinning hall, everyone was seated according to station. Talagon and his daughter were seated at a lower table than the Winderspire family. Jareth and Devon both were seated although not together at the higher table. Jareth enjoyed upsetting the apple cart by insisting that Sarah stand behind him. Sarah knew from the instructions of Donatien that her duty was to look out for her master's welfare. She mused that this was a great cosmic joke, her looking out for Jareth, and being amused she wore a slight Mona Lisa smile.

Circe murmured something in her father's ear, and he let his eyes move toward the high table, and the man seated with the woman in a wine colored gown standing attentively behind him. "_**Tagaan**_," he said to his daughter.

Bryn looked down the table toward Jareth, and then behind him at Sarah who seemed to be looking for something. "She's worried," Bryn observed and motioned to Devon.

Devon felt the tension in the room as well and was also looking about. "I can understand why. Someone's resentment and jealousy is not being shielded."

Bryn let her eyes sweep the room without appearing to be frantic, "Devon," she whispered. "Why is it no one else seems concerned?"

"Most would not even notice, as they are self focused." He explained. "Jareth's aware…" he pointed to the man seated looking in total control. "He just covers it better than any one else." He motioned to two Goblin Guards to join Daisy and Della along with Sarah behind the Goblin King.

Oberon entered the Dinning room with his wife on one arm and Linda on the other. Jareth stood as did the others in the room. He gave a side ways glance to the woman standing demurely behind him. But as her eyes were cast downward, she'd not seen the woman on the High King's arm. Looking back at the trio, he could not mistake the daggers in the eyes of the dark haired mortal beauty on his father's arm. Linda was angry with him, and he was well aware of it. When the High King seated both his ladies to either side of his place, he took his seat as well and the servants moved forward with food and wine for all.

Jareth had seen too it that food had been brought to his chambers, and he'd made sure that Sarah had eaten before she'd dressed for the evening. The last thing he needed or wanted was to be seen as uncaring for the needs of his servants or his person slave. Sarah looked at the meal being served without envy; she stood behind him looking more like a sentinel than a slave.

Bryn closed her eyes and focused her mind. 'Sarah, what is wrong?'

Sarah turned her head slightly toward the direction of the girl and the Baron. Just as quickly she brought her face back to where it had been, with a determined expression.

Devon placed a gloved hand over Bryn's hand in her lap and shook his head, warning her not to try to make mind contact again with gentle dissuasion.

Jareth was also aware of Bryn's thought, but made no issue of it. He too was as alert as Sarah, and knew there were far more dangerous beings in the grand room. He felt Sarah place her hand on his right shoulder, moving his left hand; he placed it over the hand that tightened as she picked up stray thoughts that were unshielded. Gently, almost as if they were more than an angry master and a difficult slave, he patted the hand on his shoulder.

Daisy watched the exchange with a calm that was eerie. Della felt her wings twitch and she looked at Daisy. The pair were unaware it seemed of the change in the output of their pheromones, and unaware that the Goblin guard and Harpy were aware of the changes. . The two Goblin guards behind Daisy and Della began to close in, closing ranks as it were, forming a barrier that would protect not only their King, but his _**Tagaan**_, as well.

When the meal finished the High King and his Ladies moved toward the ballroom with the entire entourage of guests following. At this point Sarah was once more gracing the arm of the Goblin King, and moving in graceful steps keeping pace with him. In the ball room Oberon and his Ladies moved to a Dais, where he sat in a throne and both Linda and Tatiana sat on either side of him in chairs that were one step below his. Jareth moved to a seat lower down on the dais, sitting while the minstrels began to play. He didn't bother to look at Sarah, for he knew she was well versed on what was expected of her.

Devon usually sat beside his cousin, and found that there was a seat open for him to do so as well as a smaller seat for Bryn on the step just below. He looked at Jareth, unsure of bringing his pretty mortal witch in such close proximity of Sarah. Jareth read the uncertainty and shrugged; this seating had been arranged by the High King and could not be questioned. Devon placed a hand under Bryn's elbow as he guided her to the seat placed for her before sitting beside his cousin.

"Any last words?" he whispered to the Goblin King.

"Hail Creaser," Jareth retorted.

Oberon stood up and whispered something to Linda who nodded; he then turned to his Queen and extended his hand. The High Queen gave him an indulgent smile as she stood, and followed him to the middle of the dance floor. No one would dare dance before the Royal Couple, it was simply not done. The minstrels began to play a tune that seemed to bring a gleam to the Queen's eyes and a smile of recognition.

Sarah listened to the melody closely, understanding that it held special meaning for the Royal couple. She looked over to the woman seated beside the throne on the dais. The woman feeling her gaze looked over at her, her face calm but her eyes filled with fire. Sarah felt the corner of her lips quirk up before she looked away. It had been a long time since she'd seen the woman look so contented. She had questions, but they would have to wait, there were more important thing taking form here that needed to be kept observed. She could wait until later to question the Goblin on just how her mother ended up sitting beside Oberon.

Circe was seated in a corner, her father was standing beside her, but her attention was on the Goblin King. Without moving her head, or appearing to be looking about, she let her eyes seek out the little blond head of Tanya Winderspire and her disappointed face. The pretty and young Fae was seated watching the Goblin King as well, her lower lip trembling. Amused, Circe placed a hand to her face, and said for her father's ears only to hear. "I think we are about to see some…trouble."

Talagon directed his vision toward the young Fae girl. "This should be amusing."

The Duke and Duchess had joined the High King and his Queen on the dance floor. Leaving their daughter to her own devices in a seat that was reserved for nobility in the grand ballroom. Tanya looked over at the members of the King's family who were seated on or near the Dais not with envy, but with growing impertinence. She had a determined look on her pretty heart shaped face when she stood and marched over toward the dais.

Sarah heard the twitch of Della's wings, and the shifting of the uniforms of the Goblins upon the approach of the girl. She shifted her own position and looked at the pretty Fae creature coming toward them. Had Sarah been born a Fae, she gauged that she and the girl approaching would be relatively the same age. She felt a pang of something akin to pity for the pretty creature, and for the actions she was about to take. Swiftly she moved to block the girls approach.

Shocked, Tanya's mouth was agape; her pretty blue eyes popped open in astonished surprise. "Stand aside," she commanded in a soft voice expecting to be obeyed.

Sarah looked at her, amused by the brazen behavior. "Not this time," she mused, and then wondered why she'd used that phrase. 'This time?' she thought to herself.

"I'm ordering you," Tanya said more firmly.

"You do not have the authority to order me," Sarah said in a tone she hoped didn't sound too condescending.

Pouting and infuriated, the girl stomped on pretty dance slipper clad foot. "Jareth," she said louder. "Tell this…slave to stand aside."

Jareth had been watching the exchange from the corner of one amused mismatched eye. Devon was aware as well, and waited to see what the Goblin King would or would not do.

"_**Tagaan**_," Jareth addressed Sarah in a formal tone while holding out a hand to her. Sarah took the hand allowing the King to pull her closer to his side. "She may approach."

Tanya narrowed her eyes toward the woman that she now saw as an immoveable obstacle before trying to look more pleasantly toward the Goblin King. "Would you care to dance?" she asked politely, thinking better of demanding that he dance with her.

"Yes, thank you." Jareth said rising, he looked at Sarah with a gloating gleam in his eye. If he had expected her to be crestfallen he was disappointed. She stood with a calm that he could not read.

Bryn groaned as the King and the Duke's pretty daughter moved to the dance floor. "Oh is he in hot water."

Devon looked over at Sarah. "Boiling I'd say," he murmured before rising and extending a hand to his guest. "Come, my dear…let's dance."

Bryn looked toward Sarah, but the other had her eyes on the Goblin King and no other. "Sure, why not."

Oberon returned Tatiana to her seat, extended his hand to Linda, refusing to take no for an answer. The woman rose and moved down the dais slowly on the King's arm. "I'm going to kill him," she said in a dark undertone as Oberon led her in the slow graceful steps of the waltz playing.

"Not if I beat you to it," he mused.

The actress looked up at the High King and smiled. "We could just let Sarah," she teased.

Oberon looked toward the dais, and sighed; "Your daughter is beautiful," his arms tightened about his paramour. "Nearly as beautiful as her mother."

Linda gave him a simpering smile. "You had me at hello," she teased.

"Ah but to keep you…" mused the High King. "That will take finesse."

Talagon frowned as he looked at his daughter. "I'd have thought the mortal would have put up more of a fight."

"Don't be a fool," warned the girl seated in the chair with her attention on the _**Tagaan**_; "She is stronger than the fool in the Goblin King's arms…and she knows it… her position is in no danger."

Talagon murmured in a sinister way, threateningly; "Perhaps we can change that." His daughter nodded.

Sarah felt something, and noticed a change in the air. A scent that caught her attention, but she kept her face school. The music changed and more Fae joined the dancing. She watched as Jareth exchanged partners with another Fae lord. As the hours of the ball wore on she watched the handsome Goblin King dance with many partners. All the while she kept her face schooled as Donatien had taught her. 'Take no insult were none is offered.' She told herself. 'He's doing what is expected of his station.' Bryn and Devon were speaking to the High King and Queen, and Sarah gave herself an instant to envy her friend that freedom, but the instant was over quickly and she resumed her stance.

The High Queen was commenting to Bryn on how lovely her choice of gowns was, when Devon placed a hand under his Uncle's elbow pulling him slightly away from the ladies. "I've a need to speak with you on an urgent matter."

Oberon looked past him to the ladies. "So I see."

Devon spoke quietly. "I wish to request your permission…to take the girl as my wife." He spoke seriously.

Oberon gave his nephew a long observing gaze. "I will take it under advisement… I would suggest you wait a bit… you were rather rash in demanding her as payment for rescuing your cousin…I would not wish you to act rashly in the taking of a bride. Ask me again in a few months…say six."

"Thank you, Uncle." Devon whispered. "I will abide by your directive."

Oberon smiled, somewhat indulgently at his sister's son. "Get to know the girl, before you make a commitment."

"I've marked her," Devon disclosed in an apologetic tone.

"Marking is one thing, marriage is another." Cautioned the High King, Devon nodded.

Linda once more seated and relieved she didn't have to play hostess, watched her daughter as the evening wore on. She felt her jaw clench more than once. When the Goblin King danced with nearly every unattached Fae woman in the grand ballroom, Linda felt her temper rise.

Jareth approached the corner where Circe sat beside her father. "Talagon," he greeted the father politely. "Good of you to make the journey." He then looked down at the woman with shark like eyes. "You love lovely this evening Circe."

"Thank you, Sire." She said in a formal voice.

"Would you care to dance?" he bowed, extending his hand to her.

Catching a glimpse of the startled girl still standing on the dais she smiled coldly. "I'd love to."

Tatiana saw the pair walking to the dance floor before Oberon did. "Oh dear, what is he doing now?" she groused.

Oberon stopped speaking to Devon and looked at the dance floor. "I swear that boy lives far too much on the edge."

Devon moaned, "I'm never going to hear the end of this." He turned to see Bryn who was looking at Sarah, with tears ready to spill. "Bryn…we're leaving…now…" he held his hand out to her. "Say goodnight, dear."

Bryn felt a quiver of anger rage through her; she looked at the High King and whispered. "Good night." She took the Baron's hand and followed him swiftly from the Ballroom.

Della chuckled softly, but found herself on the receiving end of a glare from not Sarah, but Daisy. She swallowed the chuckle. Daisy moved closer to Sarah, not placing a hand on her but being near.

Oberon looked toward the dais, not at the daughter but at Linda. He was worried the stress of seeing her daughter ill treated would be bad for her and the baby. "Tattie, I'm going to take Linda to her rooms." He said quickly.

"I'll go with you as well." She offered.

"No…" he warned. "I'll be back… I just want her away from the shenanigans of that idiot I call a son. This kind of stress is not good for a woman with child." The High Queen understood and moved toward a group of courtiers to carry on conversation while he moved toward the dais. "Linda, I think it's time for you to retire." He suggested kindly.

Linda looked over at Sarah, "Not before I say good night to my daughter…" She stood up and walked over to the girl extending her hands to the younger woman. "Good night, Sarah." She said the girl's name.

Sarah held her head up, squared her shoulders and replied in a determined tone. "Good night, mother." Giving her mother's hands a firm squeeze she watched as the King led the actress out of the ballroom.

Jareth had seen the exchange and released Circe from his arms. "Thank you, for the dance." He said before moving toward the corridor that the King and his paramour were using to exit the ball. "A moment, if you please." He said in an angry tone as he moved after them, and addressed the actress. "Madam a word;" Coldly Linda turned to look at the young Fae King. Oberon glared at him, but he ignored his father. "The slave no longer has a name… and you will refrain for calling her by her old one."

Linda let her eyes do a quick sweep; the corridor was empty with the exemption of them. Acting on impulse she drew back her right hand and let it connect with the face of the younger Fae King with more force than even she knew was possible. It left a dark red mark on his pale cheek. "Don't you ever talk that way to me, you over indulged brat!" She turned to the High King. "Take me to my rooms before I take him over my knee and give him the beating he deserves."

Jareth held his cheek and staggered back against a wall, with his mouth wide open and his eyes holding shock. Oberon laughed as he tucked the actress's left hand back into the crook of his arm, and led her away. Jareth stayed leaning on the wall, knowing he'd pushed where he shouldn't have.

Daisy on the dais turned to Della. "Where's the King?" she asked swiftly.

It was Sarah who moved, she had seen Oberon being followed out the exit by Jareth and she feared he was about to do something even more stupid than the taking of her dreams. She'd seen her mother's hand connect with the Goblin King, and him stagger back. Once the High King and Linda had moved away she slowly approached. Jareth still against the wall he'd staggered to, looked at her. Sarah shook her head, and raised a hand to his face. "You deserved that you know."

"She called me an over indulged brat," he said quietly, upset.

"You are," Sarah confirmed, as she lowered her hand. "What did you expect her to do, Jareth?" she asked using his given name in a most intimate way. "I'm her child…She will never see me as…_** Tagaan**_." She stood before him, dressed in a slave's garment looking and acting like a Queen, making him feel like a knave.

With an exasperated growl from deep in his throat, Jareth pulled her into his arms, forcing his kisses on her and holding her with no intentions of being denied. He swept her up into his arms, striding toward the sweeping staircase that would take him to his rooms in the family wing. Behind them the Goblin guards walked swiftly. Sarah began to struggle as he mounted the stairs. "Be still," he warned in a threatening manner. He kicked the door open as they approached his bedchamber. Daisy pulled the door closed as she and Della took up their stations guarding the room and its occupants. He made no effort to ignite the lights in the dark room, but carried her straight to his bed. Her eyes in the darkness told him she half expected him to drop her roughly. Instead, he gently placed her on the bed and sat down beside her. "Comfort me," he said looking at her. Sarah blinked, it was not an order, not the way he had meant it to be. She had heard something in his voice something few ever heard from him. He was uncertain, and confused by his own rude actions. The lessons of the Guild master now were to be put to use. Placing a gentle hand to the spot her mother had left on his unblemished skin cooled the fire. Kneeling upon the mattress she leaned to him and kissed the cheek. Jareth lay back on the pillows and pulled her down with him. He didn't rip at her garments, but held her while he calmed the confusion he was feeling. "I was wrong to confront your mother in her delicate state," he said after a long time.

"Delicate state?" she questioned.

"She carries a child for my father." He said as he sat up. "I thought you should know."

Sarah sat up, looked at the Goblin King with an unreadable expression. "This is awkward." She said in a quite voice. "Your father and my mother are having a baby?" When he nodded, she placed a hand on his sleeve. "Does that make our… relationship… a bit incestuous?"

"No," he looked at her for a moment before beginning to grin. "I'm not sure." He admitted playfully. "I mean I had you before he had her…."

"Dose this make us…related?" She asked uneasy.

"No," he then thought again. "I mean I don't think so." He leaned closer to her, and placed an arm over her shoulder. He sighed as he leaned closer still to kiss her throat and work his way up to her ear. "I need you…" he admitted to her in a whisper.

Sarah looked at him, part of her wanted to tell him to go to hell. Part of her wanted to tear his heart out of his chest. "This changes nothing," she said softly as she gave him greater access to her tender throat line. "I still hate you."

He murmured as he moved his lips over her, his hand joining in the assault. "I don't care… I need you." He paused before pushing her back into the pillows and straddling her. "Sometimes, I just…need you."

Sarah remembered the words, and looked at him with an under layer of guilt clutching her heart. He'd heard, heard her speak those words or ones very like them to the friends she'd made in the Labyrinth on her journey of self exploration and growth. Looking at him in the darkness, she breathed deeply as he slipped a hand into the slit of her skirt. "Every now and again… for no reason at all… I need you…as well." she moaned.

Jareth let his hand slid up her leg until it reached her rounded bottom, "Sarah." He said darkly pressing his lips to hers he said her name again. "Sarah."

Oberon returned to the ballroom and took his place by his wife, "Jareth?" he asked.

"Gone, the girl with him;" The High Queen said in a voice that was for the High King alone. "You are going to have to tell him." She said firmly.

"I suppose you're right." He reluctantly admitted. "But it will have to wait until morning."

The High Queen looked at him, "Linda?"

"Madder than a wet hen," he mused remembering her assault on Jareth. "She'd bitch slap the boy without a second thought."

Tatiana laid her head on her husband's shoulder as they stood side by side watching their guests. "I'd pay good money to see that."

Placing his arm, supportively about her shoulders he sighed. "I'll talk to him come sunrise." He promised.

"It's for the greater good."

Della twitched her wings. "They're a strange pair," she remarked to her partner.

"How so?" Daisy asked amused by the Harpy.

"I'm never sure if he wants to throttle her, or devourer her in the heat of passion." Della announced.

"A bit of both," Daisy said.

"Harpies have a much better way." Della crossed her arms. "We mate, we eat the sperm donor, and it's all over and done with. No entanglements, no regrets, no hurt feelings."

"No lasting companionship," countered Daisy.

Pointing to the door and thinking of the pair beyond, Della snapped. "If that's companionship…"

"That," Daisy interrupted with a voice filled with Goblin pride; "Is Goblin courtship."

"She's only his slave," Della countered. "Not his mate."

Daisy didn't argue, knowing the Harpy would never understand what even the King and his _**Tagaan**_ were not ready to face. She sighed as the heady scent of the King filled the corridor. Della growled darkly complaining about the odor, but Daisy drew great comfort in the fact that it was the _**Tagaan's**_ scent mingled with that of the Goblin King. She began to hum a soft tune. Della cocked a brow upward before picking up the tune as well.


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32. Principals on trial**

Sarah awoke in the night with a start; her entire body seemed to be reacting to some unseen force. "Oh my God, what is that?"

Jareth too had awakened startled; he looked at her and whispered. "You heard?"

"More like felt it in every fiber of my being," Sarah looked at the King; "So what was that?"

"That is a summons," he said quietly, with a strange respectful dread in his usually cocky voice. "Why you felt it is a mystery…one that will have to wait." He rose from the bed and with a flick of his wrist they were both dressed. "We don't have time for pleasantries or any other conversation… Squeek! Squeek!" he called out softly looking about the shadows of the room. "Squeek come to me." Somewhere on the other side of the room, where the shadows began to move a dark body came out of nowhere and rushed toward the King. "There you are, go swiftly tell the Baron I need to speak with him, and be discreet…he may be occupied."

Sarah sat on the edge of the bed, "Is there anything I can do?"

"Just cooperate," Jareth said as Della and Daisy entered the room. "There's been a summons." He informed the guards. "I'll be returning the_** Tagaan**_ to the Goblin castle before I leave."

Devon entered the King's chambers looking very sleepy. "What's the matter?"

"A summons," Jareth said pulling his gloves over his fingers. "We are leaving now; I'll leave you to police the departure of the staff. I'm taking only the guards and my…" He pointed to Sarah; "my _**Tagaan**_," the King looked agitated. "Please give our apologies to the High King… and thank him for a lovely evening." Extending a hand to Sarah he waited for her to join him. Once she'd placed her hand in his, the guards flanked them and they were gone.

Devon stood in the dimly lit room, hearing the scrambling sounds of little Goblins making swiftly to follow their King. "I'll do my best," he said to the empty room. He was certain that the King's own valet had also arisen upon the sounding of the summons. "Rondo," he called out in a sleepy voice. "Rondo!"

The King's valet entered the chamber nodding. "Here my lord," he answered rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Rondo, the King has been summoned, kindly begin to pack. We will leave shortly after breakfast." He wandered to the door. "I'm going back to bed."

"Yes, my lord." Rondo bowed as the Baron exited his cousins' rooms.

Moments after they had vanished from the isle of Avalon, the Goblin King and Sarah along with the two guards appeared in the heart of the Goblin castle. Jareth found the forces of Goblins already gathering ready to follow their master to the mortal realms and seek the wished away child. "Prepare to leave," Jareth ordered them before turning to Sarah. He took her hands into his own. "I'll return as soon as I can." He looked as if he wanted to say more.

Sarah nodded, and watched as he and the horde of nightmarish creatures moved to what she'd thought was only a garish looking stained glass window. The King was the first to step though the glass and vanish on the other side, followed by the horde. Sarah whispered under her breath, "Rhaan taklaan." Goblin for be safe.

Daisy looked at the once mortal girl and gave her an understanding grin; "Donatien?" When the girl nodded the Goblin guard looked at her with approval.

Della moved threateningly toward Sarah, "Time to go back to the tower, girly girl." She reached out her hand. Shock registered on her Harpy features when Daisy prevented her from grabbing the girl.

"No," Daisy said with ease.

"The King is away on a summons," Della snapped. "We can't have this one roaming about freely, can we?"

"Did he order her returned to the tower?" challenged the witty Goblin woman. The Harpy stared at her for a moment before say he had not. "Then I would say it's alright for her to be in out of the tower for now, had he wanted her taken back there, he'd have ordered it." Daisy bowed to the _**Tagaan**_, "Would you care for a tour?"

Dressed once more in the wine colored velvet revealing gown, Sarah nodded. "But it's so late…" she reasoned. "Won't we wake everyone?"

Daisy giggled. "Not if we are quiet, and stay to the main floor here." She waved the mortal to follow. "You've seen this room, but you've yet to see the grandeur of our castle…"

Della blocked the path now, just as Daisy had blocked her. "He may not have ordered her returned to the tower, but he didn't hand over the keys to the palace, either." The Harpy glared at the girl. "He left her here, so here she should remain."

Sarah interceded. "Why don't I just return to the west wing rooms… I can rest there until the King returns… how long does a summons take?"

Daisy seemed perturbed with the Harpy. "He didn't order her held in this room under guard…" she argued. "How can she serve the King if she does not know the palace…"

"All she has to do is spread those long creamy legs of hers and the King will be happy." Della countered. "She's a sex slave, nothing more…"

"I thought you said you read the glyphs…" Daisy growled.

Della spun on her. "We don't speak of such things before outsiders."

Both guards looked at the young woman in the wine colored gown. One looked with a gloat, the other with sorrow for any hurt the mortal would feel. "She's not an outsider."

"She is a slave," Della said with contempt. "Her only purpose in the castle is please the King."

Tiring of the banter, Sarah took a seat on the steps below the King's Goblin Throne. "She's right Captain, I am a slave, and a prisoner of war…"

"You are much more than that," Daisy countered again, this time to the human. "You are the one person to reach the castle beyond the Goblin City."

"Fat lot of good it did me," mused Sarah. "Oh I won back the baby…" she rested her elbows on the stair behind her. "At the cost of my dreams…" she gave a mirthless scoff. "Look at me now… a slave. I don't look like some champion."

"You did declare a war," Daisy said taking a seat beside her. "You didn't think of the consequences, you just went and declared war."

"It wasn't supposed to be a war…it was supposed to be a trial…" Sarah said defensively. "All I wanted was my dreams back."

Della laughed at her maliciously, "I told you mortals weren't very smart, runt!"

Daisy looked at her partner with restraint. "The ignorance of the other two witches I can understand," she returned her gaze to the face of the human. "It is yours that disturbs me the most. You already had knowledge of us, of our King…"

Sarah, still leaning back on her elbows gave one the impression she was just sitting about relaxing. She shrugged. "So I knew of the King, so what?"

"Surely you understood the laws you three were braking." The Goblin woman spoke as if she were discussing something with an equal. "I was lead to believe you were aware of Eschant laws, and the way they applied to all magic users."

"I was so hell bent on getting my dreams back," Sarah mused softly. "I think I was willing to over look them."

"Stupid," mused the mocking Harpy.

"Let's see how well you do when something is taken from you like…oh say your wings." Sarah snapped.

Eyes narrowing, and teeth suddenly bared, the Harpy glared at Sarah. "Is that a threat?"

Daisy cleared her throat, and both looked at her. "I suggest we not make threats back and forth ladies. No sense in wasting breath."

Della crossed her arms and shifted her stance; "The runt is right."

Sarah breathed out a long cleansing breath. "I suppose." She looked about the throne room. "This room looks different from the way it was the last time I saw it." She pointed to the stairs. "Everything looks like a cleaning crew came through here."

Della blinked, "She made it this far?"

"And beyond," Daisy nodded. "She made it to the puzzle room."

"I'll be," Della quipped. "Who would have thought a mortal could be so… dedicated."

The girl in the wine colored gown sniffed lightly. "My brother was at stake, don't Harpies have family ties?"

"Flock ties," corrected the Harpy. "But it's different."

"Of course it is," mused Sarah. "I was given a mission… thirteen hours in which to solve an unsolvable puzzle…"

"Not unsolvable," countered Daisy with a gleam. "Merely difficult."

"Impenetrable unknowable impossible more like it," Sarah said taking to her feet. "I was in the Labyrinth, remember?"

The Goblin woman still seated smiled at the mortal. "And what did you learn?"

Sarah looked taken aback by the question. "What did I learn?" she repeated then became pensive. "Everything is possible, and nothing is as it seems…"

"Is that all?" Della snarled; "A fledgling knows that."

"Never take anything for granted," Sarah added flashing a sneer of her own at the Harpy.

"Big deal," the Harpy gloated.

Daisy began to finger the hilt of her sword. "Anything else?"

Thinking carefully Sarah was not sure what it was the Goblin was seeking an answer to. "Words have power?"

Daisy nodded, but was not satisfied; "And?"

Racking her brain now, Sarah placed a hand up to her brow. "I don't know… what is it you think I've missed?"

"Principals'," Daisy suggested as she stood up.

"Principals'? Whose?" Sarah asked.

"Goblin principals."

Sarah laughed scornfully. "You're kidding."

Della looked at the Goblin Guard and shook her head, "No she's not."

Daisy looked at Sarah with compassion, "I understand your reluctance to see it from a perspective other than your own. I too would be reluctant," she said quietly. "But you have to understand… Our King was charged with a duty… and he carries it out despite the burden it places on his soul."

Burden to his soul," scoffed Sarah with contempt. "What burden? You mean he'll admit to stealing children in the night?"

"Hardly," Daisy stood up to the girl who was her height and build. "He's not the one who wishes them away."

Left with her mouth agape, Sarah staggered back, nearly toppling into the empty pit that was in the center of the circular space. "That's not fair."

"Life is not fair." Daisy countered smoothly, totally unaffected by Sarah's out burst.

"I didn't mean it, and he knew I didn't…." She defensively countered hotly.

"That's what they all say," Della yawned bored to tears.

Daisy looked at Sarah as if looking at an equal. "Take a moment to consider our position," she suggested. "Have you ever once considered the Goblin prospective?"

"No," Sarah admitted quietly. "I never gave it a thought."

"Of course not," Daisy said without malice. "Did you think of what you asked of subjects of this Kingdom?"

"What I asked?" Sarah began to feel a noose tightening on her soul.

"You asked them to help you… and betray their own King." Daisy pointed out without being unkind.

"Treason," growled Della.

"No, I never…" Sarah covered her mouth. "Sir Didymus?"

"And the gardener…" Daisy watched the girl's reaction. "To name only two… there were more. Did you consider what their actions cost them?"

"No," Sarah said shamed of her lack of concern. "I didn't."

"Consider the consequences now," suggested the Harpy.

Daisy watched as Sarah frowned. "I'm so sorry."

"Of course you are." The Goblin said, "But have you learned anything?" Sarah stared at the guard and she sighed. "What are Goblin Principals? Ask yourself that sometime…." She looked suddenly alert. "They come."

Sarah looked at the portal the King and his forces had stepped through. It was vibrating and the horde of goblins rushed in with a child no older than four. The little girl looked confused and worried, then seeing Sarah let out a giggle.

"Booful," she said clapping her hands.

Sarah looked at the horde; they parted to give her free access to the child. Della was about to move between Sarah and the child when Daisy prevented her. Sarah smiled at the the little girl and said. "Hello cutie, what's your name?"

"Tina…" the child bravely moved toward the young woman taking a seat on the stair below the throne. "What's yours?"

Sarah smiled at the child, "You can call me_** Tagaan**_," she pulled the little girl in torn jammies onto her lap. She looked over at Daisy. "When will the King return?"

"Once he's set the runner on its way," Daisy smiled softly at the child on the lap of the only person to finish the Labyrinth. She was rewarded with a toothless grin. "He'll want to inspect the child then."

Sarah stiffened, "I beg your pardon?" The child shifted and looked up at her, hearing the irritation in Sarah's tone. Sarah soothed the child before looking to Daisy for an explanation.

"All children are given an inspection," the Goblin woman said softly, calmly, so as not to disturb the child once more. She looked at Sarah with an expression that begged the mortal to see the reason in her statement. Seeing only resentment and anger, she went on more directly. "Some have needs that must be met, injuries that must be seen to, or traumas to quell."

Sarah looked at the little girl wiggling in her lap; the child didn't seem to meet any of those suggested state of being. She appeared to be a perfectly normal, happy little girl. A surge of protectiveness rushed through Sarah and she wrapped her arms about the child; "Then what?"

Della looked at the woman with the child on her lap with baleful eyes. "That's not your worry." She said a bit threateningly, she looked at the child then turned to Daisy. "I hunger, and must hunt to feed."

Daisy nodded and gave the Harpy leave to seek a meal in the wild. She noticed the way Sarah shielded the child from Della's gaze and found it amusingly poignant. "The Harpy is out of sorts when she does not feed, and on Avalon she's not allowed to hunt." Daisy said before barking orders to the lower ranking Goblins of the horde.

"Do I want to know what she feeds on?" Sarah asked coddling the wiggling child.

"Pretty much the same thing that you and I feed on… lamb, chickens, fish when she feels like getting a talon wet, beef…. She just likes her meat a bit fresher than you or I." Daisy teased gently, eyes full of merriment and mischief.

Shuddering at the mental picture that evoked, Sarah changed the subject back to the child. "What happens when the King returns?"

Daisy looked at the child, gauged her attention and said carefully. "The runner is set off, the King will check the progress of the run, and the child here in the castle will be taken care of."

"If the run is…unsuccessful?" Sarah asked looking down at the child who was now fingering the pattern on Sarah's gown.

Daisy didn't answer; she turned to the portal and bowed. "The King comes."

Sarah didn't bother standing, the child had settled and she wanted to keep her as calm as she could. She looked at the window that once more vibrated; Jareth stepped through it as if it didn't exist. He saw instantly that Daisy had cleared out the unneeded horde and sent them to other duties. He placed a hand on her shoulder as he passed her. "Thank you Captain." He moved past the bowed guard toward the throne where Sarah sat on the steps with the child, Tina. "Well, munchkin," Jareth addressed the child in as soothing a tone as Sarah had ever heard. "What is your name?"

"Tina," she said in a babyish voice, peeping out from under Sarah's protective arms. "What's yours?"

Smiling all the way to his eyes, Jareth winked at the babyish girl. "I'm King Jareth… and this is my castle."

Tina's eyes opened wide as did her little mouth. "Is she your Queen?" She pointed to Sarah in awe.

A flicker of sadness showed in the eyes of the Goblin King, quickly suppressed by other needs and cares. "No, I don't have a Queen." Sarah's own guilt flickered in her green eyes. Jareth looked at Sarah and held his hands out expectantly. He watched the battle that raged in her as she decided whether or not to turn the child over to the Goblin King. Knowing there was no real choice she held the girl out to him, watching as he let the child think he was playing a game with her when all the while he was seeing if she was of sound body and mind. "Well my fine little lady," he said walking across the floor with the child in his arms. "What shall we do with you?"

Sarah stood up and followed the King as he walked about the room; she was keeping a close eye on the child. "Don't jostle her so," she whispered.

Holding her up high over his head, Jareth teased the baby. "She likes being jostled, don't you Tina my love?" Tina laughed and wiggled, Jareth looked at Sarah with an 'I told you so' gleam in his eyes. "Now how about a nice game?" he sat the girl down on the floor of the throne room and placed a ball before her.

Sarah watched pensively as the child played, she looked over at Jareth whose mask had shifted and was looking sad. "What is it?" she asked softly placing a hand on the King's arm. "Is there a problem with the challenger?"

"There is no challenger." Jareth's voice was filled with lamentations.

"What do you mean there's no challenger?" Sarah turned her back so the child could not see the upset on her features. "Who wished the poor baby away?"

"Her step father," Jareth stated darkly. "The oaf didn't like having to share the child's mother…."

"Oh no," moaned Sarah in as quiet a breath as she'd ever taken. "What happens now?" She suddenly remembered something Jareth had said on the windswept hillside and placed her self between him and the child. "I will not let you turn her into a Goblin…"

Amused the Goblin King cocked his head to one side, placed his hands to his hip line and scoffed at her in the same haughty tone he'd used on her that first night. "Oh you won't, will you?" he was totally amused by the situation. He took a step toward her, and his demeanor told Sarah he was more dangerous than she could imagine or begin to know. "And just how would you stop me if that were my design and intent?" His lips pressed firmly together and he regarded her with a rather condescending gaze. "Just what are you prepared to do to stop me?" he taunted before snickering wickedly. "You're no match for me," he paused nearly saying her name as he had that night long ago. He stopped his advance, looking at her smugly.

Sarah looked over her shoulder at the little girl playing with a ball that was magically changing colors and keeping the child fascinated. "Don't turn her," Sarah's voice held determination and resentment.

"I have no intentions on turning the child," Jareth sighed. "She will be given to a wonderful family of wood elves to raise."

"You would allow her to be fostered?" Sarah took an involuntary step forward. "Why?"

"Because it's the right thing to do… turning a child is a last resort my _**Tagaan**_," He stated crossing his arms and becoming defensive on his own. "Only when a child's spirit or body is beyond healing… then and only then do I use the magic to turn."

Closing her eyes, feeling a wild mixture of relive and shame, Sarah shuddered and sighed. "I didn't know." She looked at him suddenly concerned. "And Toby? Would you have fostered him out?"

"No," Jareth said cocking a brow up in a challenging expression. "I intended to raise him as my own."

"You what?" Sarah staggered back one step before remembering the child on the floor and pulling herself up short.

Jareth took hold of her arm to shore up her stance. "I was going to raise him as mine." He repeated darkly.

Sarah narrowed her eyes, glaring at the man who was glaring right back; "Over my dead body."

"I could have arranged that." He growled.

Daisy watched the pair, unhappy that they were once more at odds. She would have liked to have locked the pair in the tower room with the scrolls and threaten to not let them out until each and every scroll had been read and digested.

Sarah looked over her shoulder to be sure the child was not picking up on the adult tensions. "You're still that same smug, arrogant bastard." She muttered toward the King.

"And you are still that same brat." He countered.

"Fuck you," she mouthed.

"Anytime," he mouthed back eyes dancing with evil intent. Sarah pulled her arm free of his grip, intending to turn and tend to the child. His arms went about her waist pulling her violently against him, preventing any movement. "Stay put," he warned as his lips moved down to her shoulder. "When the elves have taken their charge, you and I have unfinished business."

"If I had a shard of iron I'd end this business with you here and now," She gritted through clenched teeth.

His fingers dung into her flesh, and he growled in her ear. "Just remember sweetheart, you have to be close enough to strike, and I will take you with me."

Sarah in the midst of the anger and cutting words suddenly notices that her breathing was labored, his scent had become heady and both of them were reacting to something that seemed to drive them on. She looked down at the child, and then over her shoulder at the King. She hated him in that moment, and wanted him at the same time. His face mirrored hers, and they were both taken aback. Jareth released her from his seeking embrace, and moved to the throne where he sat sulking until the Elves came for the child. He painted on a pleasant face for the child's sake, but once Tina was carried off by her new fostering parents, the mask dropped and he looked at her with contemptuous eyes.

"Captain," he addressed the Goblin woman who was aware of the tensions in the room. "my _**Tagaan**_ will accompany me to my rooms…. You came come for her in an hour.. no make that two hours… and then you may return her to the tower." He stepped down from the dais, and glared at Sarah. "Come my _**Tagaan**_."

Daisy watched as they vanished from the throne room, she was aware that Philo was lurking in the shadows. "It does not go well?" He questioned.

"It does not," she shrugged. "One can not rush these things… but he's hell bent on making her suffer for all her deeds… and she's hell bent on resisting him…." Daisy sighed. "Call Donatien, and Lutin, and Joachim; I wish to call a meeting… in the scribes rooms."

"As you wish Captain," Philo moved away.

Daisy looked at the throne and frowned, there was too much at stake to worry about hurt feelings and bruised egos. Every Hobgoblin, and Hobgoblin Halfling knew the tales, and the consequences of what could happen if there were no measures taken. He had started on the right path, and several times had moved further with direction. Yet each time Daisy felt the King was heading toward the truth, something drove him to repeat the past. She looked at the Goblin Throne with a measure of self-reproach and culpability. She was about to take measures that could not be turned back once the steps were taken. She placed a hand on the side arm of the Throne, making a silent vow. With every drop of Hobgoblin blood that surged through her veins she would make sure this King didn't meet the same fate as Zoltarie. Even if she had to sit on him he was going to read the rest of those damned scrolls.

Della found Daisy on her way to the Scribes rooms; "Where are we off to runt?"

Daisy looked at the Harpy and made a spilt second decision, "Della, if you had understood what the glyphs said you'd know the dangers we face here."

Feeling fed, and more aggressive, the Harpy gripped the shoulder of her partner. "Listen Runt," she growled showing her teeth. "Those glyphs are private,"

"Those glyphs are history…" Daisy corrected the larger guard. "And I don't want history to repeat itself… you took an oath to protect the King as well…. You should be more interested in how those glyphs play a part in this little soap opera we are staring in."

Della frowned and snorted; "What's a soap opera?"

Daisy, amused by the Harpy's sudden shifting of gears, sighed. "It's a form of entertainment that the mortals are fond of. An ongoing saga of life, just more broadly portrayed."

"Ah," Della twitched her wings. "I'll remember that." She saw the scribes rooms and the Scribe awaiting them. "A meeting of the minds?"

"A meeting of principals," Daisy said hooking an arm into that of the Harpy. "Goblin principals…"

"I'm not a Goblin," protested the Harpy sharply.

"For all intents and purposes, yes you are…. You are a subject of this Kingdom… no mater what your native race is…"

"I doubt others will share your view." Della interjected.

"Others don't matter here, you and I are the guards the King has chosen to protect his _**Tagaan**_," Daisy paused before the door of the chamber. "Enter here, and become what your predecessor was not… become Goblin."

"My predecessor?" Della shook her head.

"She who failed in protecting the first _**Tagaan**_ of the Goblin King Zoltarie." The Captain stated firmly; "Just as my predecessor failed."

Della looked at the assembled members about a great table in the central chamber of the Scribe. "Everyone else here is Hobgoblin," she remarked.

"WE are Goblin," Daisy corrected. "We don't define ourselves by our native race, but by our citizenship."

Della mused; "Goblin principal?"

Daisy shook her head. "Enter and bring your race into the Kingdom," she urged.

Della contemplated the consequences, wished she'd had time to seek the council of the Mother of the Flock. She looked at the expectant faces within the chamber and nodded. "WE of the Flock are in." She moved into the chamber. "So what's this about?"

"Let us begin," Daisy said moving to the head of the table.

Jareth watched the orb even as he forced himself upon the girl once more. It fascinated him that the orb reacted to his taking of the girl with such interesting changes of color and patterns. As his hands moved over the girl, the orb reacted. He looked from orb to the clenched eyes of the woman. She had no idea of how close her dreams were. Perhaps it was that fact that drove him on, and spurred him to demonstrate his mastery to her. Perhaps it was her reactions and the arching of her back, which thrilled his blood. Perhaps it was because it was a heady and exhilarating just being within her, or maybe it was the spicy musky scent she gave off. What ever it was he found himself emptying his seed deep into her, totally uncaring as to whether or not she was ripe. He wanted her, and that was all that mattered, after all… he had her dreams.

Exhausted he collapsed over her, breathing heavily into her ear and responding to the same from her. "Still wish to drive an iron spike into my heart, wench?"

"Too tired," she gasped for breath before he savagely took her mouth.

Jareth sighed, leaned up and looked at the orb on the nightstand, and smiled. The woman under him shifted and felt delicious, and her orb reflected the satisfied tingles she must be experiencing along with the anger at experiencing them. "And satisfied," he said looking down at her face. "Bask in the after glow," he urged. "What will it cost you?"

"Pride," she whispered, not aware she'd said it aloud.

Jareth smirked, fully intending to take that from her as well. However before he could say some smart aleck remark, and totally render the moment ruined, he looked at her more carefully. Even though she was his enemy now, and had waged an ill-conceived war upon him, she was still the only being in the universe he had ever sung Fae Song to. Quietly he rolled over, off Sarah, and pulled her to his side, spooning into her. He could see the changes in the orb, but as her back was to it she could not.

"What will become of Tina?" she murmured into his chest.

"She will grow up as a citizen of my Kingdom, and will live a full life." Jareth promised.

"And her mother," nothing could hide or disguise the feeling of having made a horrid mistake from Sarah's voice.

"Her mother is not an issue," Jareth informed her softly. "It was the step father who wished her away…"

"But she's her mother's child…" Sarah looked up at him, "I didn't think of Karen when I wished Toby away, I was too concerned with my own feelings of self… Later, when my eyes were not so blind, I saw that …. Karen loves her son… How can you take a child from a mother who does not even know what her husband is doing to her?"

"I can, because I must." He said without emotion. "What would happen to some of the wished away if I didn't take them?"

"But you don't take all the wished away and unwanted…" Sarah argued boldly.

"No, I don't…" he admitted. "Those that I take are taken for a reason."

Sarah sat up looking at him with an icy aloofness, "I think that stinks."

Sitting up beside her he smirked, "So do I."

"Then why do it?" she challenged.

Gripping her throat in one hand he growled. "It's part of the job description." Brutally he pulled her face to his. "Shut up, _**Tagaan**_, I tire of conversation."

Sarah pushed him away, and rolled off his bed; "Job description?" She challenged. "Next thing you'll be telling me you're a paragon of principals."

"Paragon," he mused darkly reaching over and taking the orb with her dreams off its stand; "That's stretching it even for me."

Sarah opened her mouth to argue when she noticed the orb in his hand. "What is that?" she asked feeling disoriented at seeing the orb.

"It's a crystal…nothing more," he mused darkly passing it over his hand as he had the night she had lost her dreams.

Sarah staggered back, swallowing hard; remember the rest of his speech from that first night. "You bastard." She looked at him and not the orb. "You fucking bastard."

Jareth smiled. "Our time grows short," he placed the orb on the nightstand in full view. "If you're a good girl and please me, I may even allow you to touch it." Rage began to build a fire, fueled with fury and the memory of what living without dreams had been like. Sarah flew across the space at him with her hand outstretched, ready to choke the life out of him. Jareth knew he had pushed her past the point of endurance, and easily flipped her on to her front, pinning her to the bed. "That's it, _**Tagaan**_," he growled at her from behind, his hands pinning her down. "Fight me… rage at me… fire me…" he felt aroused by her rage and soon was demonstrating his arousal to her full force. Her screams and curses music to his ears.

Daisy and Della approached the King's chamber at the appointed hour. Hearing the cursing and screams, they pulled back respectfully, and waited. Della smirking each time she heard the cries of the human; Daisy frowned.


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33. Toby's Christmas Wish**

He sat alone on Sarah bed, rocking himself to and fro, tears on his face. He snuck in to the room more and more often, just to sit. His father and mother could not bear to deal with the room or the fact that its occupant was gone, never to return. It had been nearly two months, and still the little boy could not let go. He held to his memories of his big sister with a tenacity that frightened his mother. Toby held Lancelot, Sarah's old bear that she'd given to him in his arms tightly as he rocked whispering the girl's name over and over like a chant.

Christmas was only a few days off, and his parents were trying to keep the spirit of Christmas alive for the little boy. They had decorated the house, had decorated a beauty of a tree in the parlor, and had made plans for a lovely family dinner. Under the tree in the parlor were gifts wrapped in beautiful paper and ribbons. They seemed to go on forever, packages of every size. A good many of them were addressed for Toby, every thing on his wish list he seemed to be getting except the one thing he wanted most.

Karen rose from her bed early, wanting to make the special Christmas bread that Toby had been talking about a dinner. As she passed Sarah's room she looked in, a matter of habit really. Seeing her son sitting on the bed rocking, she was tempted to enter and ask him what in the world he was doing. She hesitated, watched him for a moment then wordlessly moved quietly to the stairs and down to the kitchen. After pouring herself a cup of coffee she sat in the dark room giving in to the tears she kept hidden from both Robert and Toby. She too missed their girl, her stepdaughter.

Toby looked out the windows of the room, out to a leafless tree. The branches were moving in the winter winds and making strange noises. The harder he stared the stranger the noise got. He rocked but was not comforted; he held the bear but felt nothing.

'Say your right words,' a voice hissed from somewhere deep within the walls.

Toby dropped the bear.

'Say your right words,' another hissed even darker.

Toby covered his ears with his little hands, and began to moan.

'Say your right words,' the voices taunted.

Clamping his hands down, letting the agony out of his soul, the little boy opened his mouth and roared, "SARAH!"

--

The girl in the ivory tower heard the cry, and rushed toward the tall window, nearly toppling out. "Toby!" she cried in reply.

­­­­­­--

In the circular throne room the cry was heard, as well as that of the girl. Jareth frowned, that was not supposed to be. Something was not right. The Goblin King moved off the throne, drew a crystal from the air and focused on the boy. In the center of the crystal he could see the child, tormented and wailing with his hands clamped over his ears. The Goblin King's frown deepened as he heard the hissed words. Cursing, began to call the horde.

--

Sarah could not get the sound of her brother's agony out of her head, turning she moved swiftly toward the Harpy and pinned her to the wall. "You get me down to the King right now, or I'll rip your fuckin' wings right off your ugly back."

Della blinked, having heard that tone only in Harpy Matrons. "Yes," she nodded and picked the mortal up without question.

Daisy put fingers to her lips and whistled sharply. The gryphon rose from where it was hiding. She easily mounted, and flew off toward the throne room arriving just in time to hear Sarah threaten to geld the King.

--

Sarah shoved the Harpy back even before they had landed, she moved like a cat toward the King. "Toby is in agony…"

Jareth's worried face turned to Sarah, "I'm aware."

"Well what the fuck are you doing about it?" Sarah demanded to know. "Do you know what the problem is?"

Jareth handed the crystal he'd been watching the boy in to her without hesitation. "Apparently you and I are the problem." He stood back; Sarah raised the orb and gazed into it as if she'd been doing so all her life. The images in the orb sprung to life, and the mortal girl stared at them in fascination. "I'm going to freeze time," he told her. "You're going with me," he looked at her garments that pleased him but were inappropriate for her brother's vision. Raising a hand he waved it gently over her, the sexual garments were replaced by a dress very like the one she had worn in the park the day she wished Toby away. Even now she still took his breath away.

Jareth extended a hand to her, "Come, we must help the boy…together."

Sarah looked down at the gown, "Wouldn't jeans and a shirt be more…"

"You belong to me now," Jareth stated forcefully. "Jeans and other mundane garb belong to that world… not this." His hand was still extended and now his eyes were showing impatience. "Come along."

Still she hesitated. "Wait," she said thinking of what their appearance was going to do to the child. "You can not call me _**Tagaan**_, not in front of Toby. He's smart, much smarter than anyone really knows if you call me that he'll know, don't ask me how, but he'll know and that will not bring peace to him." Jareth considered her words, gave her a strangely sly expression and she knew she was in trouble.

The Goblin King inclined his head. "Alright," he agreed. "However, you must behave toward me with respect and with," the man gloated openly; "With attentive affection."

Sarah looked at him, wanting nothing more than to place an iron spike right between his stormy eyes. "Attentive affection?" she scoffed. "I can muster respect, I can even manage obedient," she glared at him. "But attentive affection is asking a bit much."

"For Toby," he added in an evocative tone.

Daisy watched the bargaining session, concerned. Della watched thinking the King was insane to bargain with someone he could easily order. Both stood as silent witnesses.

Sarah's face at the mention of the boy's name changed. She lost her defiance and nodded slowly. "Yes, for Toby." She moved with grace toward the handsome king, her head held high. "For Toby," she placed her hand into his.

Jareth closed his fingers over hers, pained that he had to use the boy yet again as a bargaining chip to get from the girl what he felt she should freely offer him. His face hid the pain he was feeling; it was a mask of calm. "Ready?" he asked when she nodded he stretched out his arm, his wrist moved and his fingers did something that the girl could not see. The stained glass again opened into a portal. Jareth stepped forward; relieved she was not resisting him but moved with grace at his side; 'Oh Sarah, why do you fight me so? Why don't you see what is right before your eyes?' he thought to himself regretfully.

--

Toby knew something was different, even before they appeared. He knew that the house sounded and felt different. He looked through tears toward the widow, seeing the snow that had been falling lightly suspended in mid fall was enough to tell him there was magic afoot.

"Hello my fine fellow," a male voice behind him spoke gently. It was a voice that the boy knew, but had not recalled until that moment.

Toby turned in fascination at the sound of the voice. "I know you…" he whispered amazed at the man when his eyes shifted to the figure beside him. "Sarah?" he asked quietly, before rushing toward the woman in the long romantic looking gown. "Sarah!" He buried his face into her shoulder as she knelt to embrace him. "I knew you weren't dead…but they would not believe me."

"SHhhhh." She soothed the child whose tears were spilling freely. "I'm here Toby, I'm here."

Jareth knelt down as well, "Toby," he spoke in soothing tones. "Sarah and I never meant for you to worry so, or be so unhappy."

The little boy looked at the man whose voice he knew with a stony glare. "You took her from me…"

"Not exactly," Jareth said looking over at Sarah.

"No, Toby." She stated turning him to face. "That's not what happened."

The boy moaned. "Everyone thinks you're dead," he wailed softly.

Sarah touched his face gently. "Of course they do," she said with kindness. "Toby, do you really think anyone in the world is ready to learn we are not alone… that magic is real?"

He shook his head, and collapsed into her arms. "I don't want you to leave me again, can't I go with you?"

Sarah looked over at Jareth who for a moment wore a pleased expression before he schooled his face to calm once more. "Toby," she said firmly. "That would not be fair to your mom."

"This is not fair to me," he wailed.

Sarah looked over at Jareth, pleading silently for help.

Jareth took the child into his hands and held him as he had when Toby was only a year old. "What if I promised you that you'd be able to see your sister, privately?" The voice was compromising and tantalizing.

Sarah blinked, wondering how he intended to do that. "Jareth," she warned using the King's name instead of his title.

The King looked over at her, liking the sound of his name on her lips. Enjoying the intimate and cozy feelings being alone with Sarah and the boy evoked. "It's alright," he promised.

Sarah shook her head, "No, don't make promises you can't keep."

"I can keep this one," He passed a hand over the eyes of the boy which fluttered closed softly. "Sleep little one," he crooned softly. "When you awaken the pain will be lighter, and you will have the memory of a sweet dream of Sarah."

Toby's head fell back, his mouth went slack, and he went limp in the hands of the King.

"What did you do?" Sarah demanded looking at him suspiciously.

"He's fine," Jareth stood holding the boy in his arms. He carried the sleeping child to the bed and placed him next to the well loved teddy bear. "He's only asleep."

"And how do you intend to carry out this promise you made him?" She demanded standing over the bed like a guardian.

Jareth stroked softly the fine downy hair on the boy's head. "I promise you Sarah, you'll not be disappointed in how I fix things for the boy." He held out his hand, "Come, it's time we returned home, this world is not for us."

Sarah looked about her room, feeling out of place. He was right; this world was no longer hers. She turned to look at the child sleeping peacefully on her bed. "Toby," she said softly. "I promise you… if you ever need me, I'll be here."

"Promises," warned the King as her hand went into his, "Can get you into a lot of trouble…Ta…Sarah." He corrected the name he was calling her at the last second. Her name on his lips still held that amazing caressing quality.

"I'd move the stars to protect him," she ventured.

"I believe you could," Jareth pulled her to him. "I believe you have."

Sarah looked from the King to the child. "He's the one thing we seem to agree upon," she mused lightly. "Jareth," she looked at him not with rage, not with pain but with questions that had no answers; "Could we not have a truce over him?"

Unable to stop himself he made the whispered demand. "If you are able to give me one kiss…freely given, I will grant you this truce."

Sarah smiled, "Done." She rose on tippy toe and placed her lips to his. "Take your pound of flesh, Shylock." She whispered enticingly.

Slanting his lips to hers he whispered back, "Aye, but I can do so without a drop of blood being shed." His hands tightened on her and the room filled with a strange radiant light. He lingered over the moment, allowing for both of them to experience the respite of peace. "You have your truce, my Sarah," he whispered to her reverently. "Toby is our one pax, the one thing we can always agree upon."

Reluctant to allow the moment to end, Sarah looked up at the King. "Thank you," she looked at the child sleeping on her bed. "He's been through enough."

Jareth nodded, "Agreed." He stepped away from her and cleared his throat. "Goblins, attend." Suddenly the creatures that had been hidden in the Williams house appeared before their King. "The boy is not to be tormented," he commanded. "He is to be protected and watched over, understood? You are not to interfere in his daily life," The Goblin King warned forcefully. "You are only to watch over him." A moment later the gathered throng of creatures departed. The King turned to the girl, "Ready to go home?"

"Home?" she shook her head, "Is that what you think the tower is to me?"

Jareth raised the hand that had been placed in his; he looked at the fingers lacing his. "For now, but who knows…perhaps we can strike a peace between us."

Sarah's eyes flicked with little fires. "Not as long as you hold my dreams, Goblin King."

--

Karen returned to the upper floor, finding Toby sleeping with a peaceful face for the first time in months. She knelt down at the bedside just to watch him. She placed a finger to her lips as Robert appeared at the door. He too joined her at the bedside looking at their son. By mutual consent they allowed the boy his peace and his sleep.

They had decided against having a big family to do's that Karen was known for. Instead they were going to have a quiet family gathering. Robert was upset that he didn't seem to be able to locate Linda. He was told she was away on business and had not left a number she could be contacted at. Even Jeremy seemed to be out of the loop on this one. He told Robert he had no idea where she'd gone.

Robert looked at the decorated tree in the parlor, under which were gifts for each of them. "You did a wonderful job with all this," he complimented his wife as she busily worked at setting up the dinner table. He winked at her, loving the fact that she was wearing one of the pink outfits he so loved on her. "And I can't get over the trove of gifts here."

"Something for each of us," Karen promised. She moved to the stairs and called up. "Toby, dinner is ready.

"Coming," he shouted back before appearing at the top of the staircase. "Can I bring Lance?" He held up the bear that went everywhere with him these days.

Karen looked at the old bear and nodded. "Sure." She waved the boy with the bear down.

Robert looked at the threadbare and worn bear in the boy's hand. "You know," he said taking as seat in his favorite armchair and patting his lap for the child to join him. "That old bear has quite the history." His voice was intriguing

Karen paused in her work, and looked at father and son, and listened to her husband speak.

"He does?" Toby held the bear up and looked at him in wonder. "Tell me."

Robert held the boy and placed a hand on the bear's tiny shoulder; "Well he's very well traveled, having been to France and Germany…oh and England, too." Robert sounded fascinated by the bear as well. "He's magical you know…" Robert whispered. "He can even grant wishes if the wishes are made with a pure heart."

Toby looked at Lancelot, and closing his eyes whispered reverently; "I wish there was something from Sarah under the tree…"

Robert regretted telling the boy that the bear could grant a wish. Regretted not thinking to put something under the tree for the boy from his missing sister; "Let's go have dinner," he said hoping the boy would forget the whole thing.

"One gift," he begged his father as he slipped off the lap he'd been seated on. "Just one before dinner…."

Karen had heard the wish, and had joined her son in making it. "One for each of us…" she said taking a seat on the couch. "And Toby I think you can pick them out… you know how to read our names…" she encouraged him.

Toby looked at the myriad of gifts under the tree. Three stood out, they were wrapped in paper that sparkled like dew in the morning sunlight. He looked at the tags; there were one for each of them. He took the one that read mom and handed it to his mother, then the one saying dad to his father. That left only the one that said Toby in big letters. He sat under the tree, touching the gift and looking at the paper. "This is so pretty." He said looking at it and holding it up so the lights of the tree reflected in it.

Robert looked at his wife, "Who did these come from?"

"I don't know," she said looked at her box, and shrugged. "I don't remember these at all. Maybe Tilly, the cleaning lady put them under the tree."

Shaking his head Robert frowned. "This paper is not Tilly's style."

"I didn't say they came from her," Karen corrected. "I said she may have placed them under the tree… we've been getting packages in the mail for weeks."

"Right," Robert broke the ribbon on his box. "Open up, Toby… I'd like to have dinner before it gets cold."

Toby was already tearing into the paper and ribbon which gave way and dropped off. He opened the lid of the box, looked inside and gasped. "Sarah," he said in astonishment, as the wind was knocked out of him.

Both parents looked at the boy as he lifted the contents out of the box with careful hands. In his trembling fingers was a small crystal ball the size of an orange. Within the heart of the orb was an etching, a likeness of his sister. The boy cradled it to his heart and rocked back and forth.

Robert opened his box with trembling fingers; within his box was a picture frame. The contents of the box was a candid shot of Sarah and Toby playing near the swan's in the park, and the picture was signed; 'To daddy, from his Princess and Prince.' Robert closed his eyes, swallowed his tears and whispered. "Thank you."

Karen opened her mystery gift and found a locket, with a card. 'To mom,' she opened the locket to find Sarah on one side, Toby on the other. Clutching the locket to her heart she shed the tears that would not be held back.

Toby placed the orb down into the box once more, knowing it would be safe there. He picked up Lancelot, clutched him to his chest, hugging him tightly. "Thank you Lancelot!"

Robert looked at the bear that seemed to be staring at him. "Thank you," he whispered.

--

Sarah watched in the crystal that Jareth held before her, tears rolled down her cheeks as she did. "Thank you," she whispered to the King.

He looked at her with mixed emotions. "My war was never with them," he said in a strained voice.

"I know," she agreed. "But very often the innocent are the victims of a battle between warring sides." She wiped her tears away with one hand. "Toby should never have been made the victim of our… mêlée."

"There have been many innocent victims, on both sides." Jareth observed, as he lowered the crystal and moved away from her.

"That crystal you gave Toby," the sound of her voice was concerned and apprehensive. "It was thoughtful."

"It was useful," countered the King still walking away. "It enables me to see if and when the boy is in need."

"He does not belong to you," Sarah warned as he reached the corridor.

Jareth paused, shooting her a look of challenge over his shoulder. "Does he not?"

"I won him back, remember?" she stood rebelliously gazing at the King, her expression matched the haughty one he wore.

"We really must discuss why that has little to do with whether or not the lad is mine." Jareth teased coyly. "You and your little brother have far more in common than even you know, my _**Tagaan**_," he laughed a throaty laugh.

Sarah staggered back, feeling his scorn. She watched helplessly as the King strutted out of the room and left her alone to her thoughts. She looked at the throne room, where he'd left her. She'd made a peace with the King for the sake of the boy, and now she wondered just what it was truly costing her. That kiss freely given… she told herself must have had some secret significance. Sarah knew there was only one thing she could do. Find out what he'd coned her into this time and figure a way to use it as leverage against him. After all a sword always cut both ways, didn't it?

"Daisy," she called out knowing her guard was always near by. "Is there a library in the castle?"

Daisy smiled, at last one of them was using their head for something more than a resting place for a hat. "Aye, madam, there is. A fine library."

Sarah looked at her. "Take me there," she commanded.

Della snorted. "Grand lady giving orders now?"

"Shut up," Sarah snapped harshly. "Or I'll tie back your wings and you'll never fly again."

Daisy cocked up a brow, "Spoken like a Goblin."

"Spoken like a dead woman," countered the Harpy with her teeth barred.

However Sarah was not fearful at the threat, "You forget yourself Harpy," she warned as she moved toward the exit. "I'm the _**Tagaan**_, and I'll bet dollars to doughnuts that out ranks you."

Della sniffed, "Only as long as you're alive, witch bitch."

Daisy shook her head, as she took the lead and escorted Sarah toward the rooms of the Scribe and the scrolls.


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34.**

Lutin stood at the door of the scribe's rooms looking as if he'd been expecting the lady who was not walking as if she owned the palace. He mused to himself how very regal the girl was, standing there dressed in the simple gown. He bowed to her, "Greetings, _**Tagaan**_, how may I be of service to you?"

Sarah looked at him and accepted his respect for her, "I need some clarifications on the Laws of Escheats," she spoke to him with returned respect.

"Of course," he motioned her and her guards to follow him into the inner sanctum of the Library. "Is there a specific point of law you wish to seek?"

"Is there something in the laws about a Kiss being freely given?" she asked trying not to seem more than mildly interested.

"Indeed there is," he held a chair for her to be seat in. "I shall get the scroll you need." He looked over at Daisy and gave her a knowing look.

Daisy stood looking at the young woman, "A kiss freely given?"

Sarah composed herself as she placed her hands on the table before her and clasped them together. "That was the price the King requested for a favor."

"A favor," The guard poked further.

"A truce actually," Sarah tried not to look at the guard.

Della snorted, "Truce?"

The _**Tagaan**_ ignored the Harpy altogether, but could not ignore the cocked brow of the Goblin woman. "What?" she demanded.

"You asked for this truce?" she questioned quietly, reflecting a deeper meaning.

Sarah nodded and kept her focus; "For Toby's sake."

"I see," Daisy leaned on the table, before she looked at the woman. "I don't recall you making a truce before you left this realm, I recall you telling the king he could not call you by the title _**Tagaan**_, so when and where was this truce struck?"

Sarah didn't like the way Della was glaring and nearly gloating about something, but it was Dasiy's questions that had her really worried; "In Toby's room, why?"

"And the King demanded a kiss?"

"No," Sarah said trying to stay calm. "I asked what the truce would cost me and he said one kiss freely given. However I can't say he demanded, more that he suggested the price."

At this point, Della began to choke on her laughter.

Sarah took a deep breath, "I take it I did something stupid."

Daisy glared over at Della who quieted down. "Not exactly stupid, my lady. But you were more or less waltzed yourself into a situation." She motioned toward the scribe who was now headed back toward them with several scrolls in his arms. "Lutin would be better at explaining the finer details of such a… arrangement."

Lutin dropped the scrolls down on the broad table and looked at Daisy. "Fine details to what situation?" His eyes shifted from the Goblin Guard to the mortal woman.

"To a kiss freely given," Daisy crossed her arms. "From a mortal to a Fae."

Lutin nodded and began to unroll a scroll. "This is very old law, and seldom is it evoked. However it still stands." He smoothed the old parchment that looked to be in good condition and then pointed to the strange scratching. "You don't read Goblin, do you?" he asked. Sarah shook her head no. "I don't suppose you read Runes or Elven or any of the Fae languages either." His voice was full of something like pity. "I shall have to see that you are tutored," he sighed. "It will serve you well… I understand that you are learning a few useful goblin phrases…"

"The master felt it would be good for me to understand the goblins, yes." Sarah admitted.

Lutin nodded, "We are a proud race," he pointed to the parchment. "We, the higher ranking goblins, are renowned for keeping meticulous records. Some of our records go back to the forming of the Seelie courts, before the division and rift which resulted in the UnSeelie courts forming." He explained with great pride in his race.

"Long ago, the worlds, yours and that of the Fae were much closer, Fae walked freely among you. However the Fae are a lusty breed, and they tarried often where they should not have tarried. Even the Seelie were a bit rakish among the mortals they… amused themselves with. The High King, seeing trouble ahead instituted the laws."

"The Escheats?" Sarah asked softly.

"Yes, and they did a help, however there were loopholes." Lutin moved one long graceful finger down the scroll looking for the passage he knew would clarify the situation to Sarah. "Ah, here we are. A kiss, freely given in exchange for a favor from a Fae, seals the giver to the Fae."

"Seals the giver? What does that mean?" Sarah demanded quietly.

"It means he owns your soul," Della scoffed loudly.

"He already owns my body… the spoils of war…" Sarah protested, she looked at Lutin, his face told her that Della didn't have it clear either. "There's more to it, isn't there?"

"Did anything happen when you exchanged this kiss? Say a change in the temperature of the room… or a sudden wind… or even perhaps a bright light?" Lutin inquired as he began to take notes with a long feathered quill.

Sarah, uncomfortable about discussing this private matter, began to squirm. "Why? Is that important?"

"_**Tagaan**_," Lutin addressed her by the title she hated. "I am a scribe, not a gossip. If I ask for information, it is much like a doctor asking for symptoms… I cannot give you a complete picture without all the information."

Sarah folded her hands on the table and took a deep breath. "I was a bit preoccupied at that moment, but yes, there was a change in the room… it seemed to be bathed in a strange radiant light, and it felt very warm for a moment."

Lutin dropped the quill, as well as his lower jaw. "The room was bated in… what color would you say the light was?" His eyes were nearly popping out of their sockets.

"Golden…" she said hesitantly. "Does that mean something?"

Lutin nodded, "It means he's fasted your soul to his," Lutin looked at the woman who was the slave of his King, and yet so much more. "And because the kiss was freely given, your soul was in agreement."

Sarah was still unclear, and asked carefully. "What does it all mean?"

Della laughed maliciously, "Twit," she cackled; "It means the King now owns you, body and soul!"

"Silence," Daisy ordered the Harpy in the sharpest tone she'd ever used. "It means far more than that and it is nothing to joke about." Daisy looked at the mortal girl. "It means he's taken the first steps to bonding with you."

"Bonding, as in… marriage?"

Lutin smiled softly. "Marriage, as you have known it is a mortal contrivance. Bonding and the taking of a soul mate is an eternal union." He explained patiently. "You are now living in a realm where life is very long lived."

"I'm a slave," she whispered.

"You are far more than a mere slave," Lutin protested making an objection to her simplification of her status. "You are the _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_," He said firmly. "It is a position of honor."

"A love slave," Sarah said pitying herself; "Nothing more than a bed-warmer."

Della snickered, Daisy hissed at the Harpy to silence her. The Goblin woman took a seat beside the girl. "You're roots; they are Celtic are they not? Think back to the oldest of times your tribes are known for, and the women who were bred at that time."

Sarah stared at her for a long moment, slowly rising to her feet. "I declared a war, and was taken captive… and he… oh…" she closed her eyes letting what she was now learning sink in. She was more than just an unpaid whore in the King's bed. Sarah placed a hand to her lips, and opened her eyes. "Does anyone know?"

Lutin shook his head, "I doubt it," he looked at Daisy. "There's more though my lady." Daisy nodded at him, signaling him to tell Sarah more. "You are the _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_, and that is not a Fae state of being, it is Goblin…and you are under Goblin law, not Fae. The Goblins and the goblin laws are very like those of the old Kelts."

Sarah looked at the scrolls that had been placed on the table, "I think you'd better teach me to read Goblin," she said huskily. "I think there's more here than you are able to say."

Daisy took hope, perhaps though this spunky mortal who was robbed of her dreams, perhaps the cycle of destruction could be broken and the souls that were still at unrest could be soothed. "There is a way," she suggested without pressing, "For the girl to learn more quickly."

Lutin looked taken aback. "Captain, are you really suggesting that we…"

"She needs to know," Daisy said calmly.

Della had no idea of what was being discussed, but felt a sudden need to put her two cents in. "And what would the King say?"

"The King gave her to the Master of the Guild to learn her… station… I believe the King would approve." Daisy declared.

"What is this way?" Sarah asked not exactly fearful, but not enthusiastically either.

Lutin looked at her, "It involves a small amount of risk," he warned gently as he moved to a shelf of what looked like ordinary knickknacks. He opened what seemed to be a puzzle box. "This is called the Babel," in his hands was a pendant on a chain. The pendant itself resembled the Labyrinth. "It enables the wearer to understand the languages and nuances of the Goblin races." He extended to her. "However, _**Tagaan**_, be warned. If you wear it, you'll become more and more one of us…"

'_**You have thirteen hours in which to solve the Labyrinth, or your baby brother becomes one of us… forever… such a pity…**_' even now she could hear his voice echoing in her mind.

Sarah extended her hand and looked at the pendant. "I'm already Goblin by law," she stated forebodingly; "May as well jump in with both feet!" She unclasped the chain, and then fastened it to her neck. "How long does it take?"

"It should work almost instantly, as if you've always known how to read and understand our language." Lutin counseled. "Tell me what you see."

Sarah looked down, and began to see the letters changing. "This is in English," she marveled. "This is the charter for the Kingdom, and the armistice between the Goblin and Fae."

"No, you are seeing it in English, but it is written in Goblin," Lutin sighed. "In time, you'll even be able to distinguish the two, and perhaps even write in both."

"Will I be able to speak it better?" Sarah asked looking at her mentors.

"In time," Daisy said, "If you work at it." Daisy placed the scroll containing the story of Zoltarie and the first _**Tagaan**_ in front of Sarah.

"This," Sarah looked closer at the scroll. "This is a lineage tree?"

"Read on," Daisy urged. "Read on_** Tagaan**_."

"Zoltarie and," Sarah paused before looking up at the Goblin Scribe. "The _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_?"

"It is a history you may find useful in knowing." Lutin said sounding conspiratorial.

Sarah looked from the Scribe to the Guard, and then at the Harpy. "What is this?"

"Call it a tribunal," Daisy stated.

"Haven't I already been judged?" Sarah asked quietly.

"We are not judging you, _**Tagaan**_." Lutin stated calmly. "A tribunal does more than just judge and render sentences. In the Goblin world they also guide."

Sarah looked at the parchment, and quickly took off the Babel. "I'm not ready for this," she said dropping it to the table. "I just wanted to know what I had gotten myself into by kissing the King… I don't want to know the rest of this." She stood up and exited alone.

Della hissed. "Don't you think we should follow her?"

Shaking her head, Daisy sighed. "Where can she go?" She looked at the scribe and pointed to the Babel. "Don't put that away, she'll be back. She won't be able to help herself… The one thing I know about humans it their curiosity. Sarah will not be able to resist the need to know."

"You're so sure of her?" Della taunted fingering her purse; "Sure enough to place a little wager?"

"Name it," Daisy said crossing her arms.

"The tab at the pub for the next month," Della challenged; "I say she won't come back here looking for the information, not without being tricked further."

"I say she'll be back before the end of this next fortnight… perhaps even only a week's time." Daisy placed her purse on the table beside the Babel.


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter 35.**

"Baron, this is all too much." Bryn seated on the floor surrounded by the remains of gaily wrapped gifts.

Devon, smiling moved down from his chair to the floor to sit beside the overwhelmed young woman. "You like the gifts?" Her excitement was pleasing to him.

"Of course I do," she gushed happily as she looked about the room once more. It could have come straight from the pages of a Dickens novel. "What girl wouldn't?" She could not help but be impressed by the lengths he'd gone to in insuring her happiness. He had spared no expense, not in the out lay of well thought out gifts, nor in the use of magic to produce an ever living Yuletide tree. Clearly something he planned on needing for a long time to come. Yet all this wonder and magic didn't prevent Bryn from becoming a little melancholy. "But I've no gift for you."

"You wish to give me something?" He ventured.

"I wish I could, yes. But I have no money of my own, and I'm here as …" The red haired girl frowned.

"As my guest, Bryn, as my guest," he insisted.

Bryn placed finger tips to the lips of the gallant Fae. "Let us not tell half truths to each other, Baron. I'm a prisoner, from a war that never should have gotten started."

"Bryn," he murmured against her fingers. "I don't treat you like a prisoner, do I?"

"No," she agreed. "You don't."

"Do any of my servants?" He asked. She shook her head, and he went on. "In time, you will be a citizen of this Kingdom. Your life, as you once knew it, is over; that is true. However, your future could be full and wonderful."

Bryn looked at him, there was no way she could not have noticed how handsome he was, and how attentive. "Is this a new ploy in your campaign to lure me into your bed, Baron?"

Devon looked wounded, "Bryn," he gasped.

Angry with herself for the thoughtlessness she'd just displayed, she sighed. "I'm sorry, Devon, you didn't deserve that."

"Bryn, I know that you are…hurting." He touched her face with only the tips of his fingers. "I know that this is a season that should be shared with family, just as we Fae celebrate Solstice with family."

The young woman looked at all the gifts laid out about her. "These are all thoughtful gifts, Devon. Really they are." She looked at him and whispered. "Four days ago, I was dressed like a princess in the High King's courts, and today you treat me like the queen of this house. But," she lowered her voice, fearful of what she had to say next. "I can't see my family, I can't go home… and I can't even see Sarah."

Devon had not thought about Sarah. "I don't think that the King would allow such a visit, no."

"I am grateful to you, Devon." Bryn stood up fearing unwanted tears were about to fall. "I wish there was something, some way, I could repay you."

Devon also stood, not caring if he stepped on something or not, he moved forward and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Stop thinking of me as your keeper, Bryn," he begged. "I want to be so much more." He moved closer, placed one hand gently under her chin and lifted it upward. "I could be so much more."

Bryn, who had been resisting his attraction, took a deep breath, took hold of his lapels and pulled him forward. She kissed him with more force than she'd ever known she had within her. The man shivered and moaned softly, then placed his arms about her, reveling in this moment. Releasing his lapels, she looked at him with conviction. "I'm not jumping into your bed, Devon."

"No," he agreed with a broad smile, "However, if I'm any judge, by that last kiss Bryn, you may be waltzing there soon enough." He gathered handfuls of her hair. "I can wait," he promised.

"That's nice to know," she sighed.

--

Sarah, after fleeing the scribe's rooms, moved swiftly up to the western wing and the rooms she'd been trained in by the Master of the Guild. She paced, first quietly, and then it became more and more frenzied and turbulent. In the back of her throat, a sound was building with each step until she could bear it no longer; then she tossed back her head and howled.

Jareth had just entered the wing; he closed the heavy door and barred it, so that no one could disturb them. "Quiet the display, Sarah." He commented as he moved to join her in the center of the large and seemingly empty space.

"You marked me," she growled, fire in her eyes and her entire being at attention.

"Yes," he commented as if agreeing on the weather taking a turn. He looked at her; she was so high strung, looking like she was ready for a battle; "What of it?"

"What game are you playing, Goblin King?" She demanded.

"One in which there will be no winner," he growled back.

Sarah looked at him; angry as she was, she could not ignore the fact that he was one of very few beings whose touch she could bear. And right now, she wanted him to touch her. "You're an arrogant bastard," she growled thinking how good his hands would feel caressing her.

"I can be," he agreed with a smirk. Jareth could read her, her scent had changed the moment he'd entered the chamber, and he was well aware of his effect on her. She was angry, yes; but she was also aroused and he was certain that his presence had a great deal to do with that fact.

The brooding girl turned away, held her arms tightly and stomped a foot. "It's not fair!" she wailed as she tried to fight the need that was overpowering reason. She looked at their reflections in the full length mirror against the fall she was now facing.

Moving to stand directly behind her, he moved one hand slowly up her arm. "No, it's not," he agreed smoothly.

She shivered as his fingers grazed her, "I hate you."

"Do you?" He whispered at her ear, "Do you Sarah? Or do you merely wish to because it's easier than dealing with it?" Jareth's presence affected Sarah, and he anticipated the desired effect that it would cause.

Once more, his hand moved down her arm. She shivered and turned slightly, but her eyes met his in the mirror and she could not mistake the look on his smug face. "Two can play that game, you know," she warned. She leaned back, ever so slightly, her rounded bottom coming into contact with his body. Gently she made a sideways sashay, drawing a hiss from the lips of the King.

"O-o-o-o-o, low blow, Sarah!" He groaned. "That's hitting below the belt."

She raised her chin, defiantly and playfully challenged. "Deal with it."

Taking a long breath, the scent of her hair filled his senses; he placed his other hand to her bottom and patted her fanny. It was possessive and aggressive and both were responding to the new game being played out. "Oh, I plan to _**deal with it**_, Sarah." He gave her the same arrogant gaze he'd delivered in the Crystal Ballroom in what now seemed a lifetime ago.

"Sarah? Not_** Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_?" She asked; her eyes watching his lips in the mirror as she moved her bottom against his hand. A few more moments and she knew she'd be purring like a kitten.

"I'm in a generous mood," he toyed with her as his hand on her arm moved upward toward her neck. "Are you?"

The shiver became deeper; more of a shudder and it coursed through her causing her to feel warm. Her nipples were hardening and the rings were constraining against the fabric of her gown. "Perhaps," she teased, tilting her head to give him better access to her throat. "What did you have in mind?" Her eyes were becoming dreamy.

Tugging lightly on her ear lobe, he waited until she looked at the mirror and he had her full attention. "How_** hot**_ does one need to get _**you**_ to get that _**mouth of yours**_ in _**gear**_?" He growled in her ear with a hint of excitement.

Her face registered disappointment, taking a few steps forward she moved her bottom out of his reach. "Not interested." She replied coldly.

Challenged and desiring what he wanted, Jareth followed her forward to whisper at her ear, keeping his eyes on her face in the mirror in front of them. "I could make it worth your while." This time he kept his hands to himself, only letting his breath touch her.

Sarah looked in the mirror, knowing he was too confident. "Who's delivering low blows now, Jareth?" She pouted, touching her arms lightly as she crossed them.

His eyes sparkled; she was interested, even if she didn't wish to be. Lightly he pursed his lips and softly blew into her ear, she shivered and gasped. "Just wondering how much fanning your flames actually need." He teased, waiting to see if she were going to try stepping away. She didn't, and he looked into the mirror, daring her to a contest of wills. He could hear her breathing change, and her scent growing stronger. He slowed his own respiration, and concentrated on her her entire body was on edge. Just letting his eyes take their time in raking over her in the mirror, he knew she was beginning to respond.

It started as a maddening tingling in her nipples, and there was goose flesh dancing up and down her arms and playing chutes and ladders with her spine. She liked his eyes raking over her, even if she didn't want to admit it; it thrilled her to have him want her. She swallowed slowly as his eyes once more met hers in the mirror. This time he used the tip of his tongue to lick the outline of his upper lip. 'Bastard,' she thought to herself as she felt the warmth gathering in her lower regions.

Leisurely, the man moved to stand beside her, so that she could see his body. His eyes watched her eyes take him, all of him, in. From his new scrupled hair style, to the tip of his leather booted toe. His garments had never hidden much, and they didn't hide anything from her vision now. He was proud of his physical prowess, not vainly so, but enough that he knew she was attracted. He could see her lower her gaze to the pronounced bulge that was ever present. He didn't have to do anything, not even thrust his hips forward. All he did was stand beside her, facing the mirror and watching.

Sarah knew she could not keep up the pretences; Sarah had needs, needs that led her to whisper, "Please."

Jareth, eyes still on the mirror and the girl trying to resist, responded with a calm, "Yes, Sarah. Please what?"

In the barest of whispers, she answered. "Touch me." Green eyes looked intently into the stormy ones watching in the reflection. The silent appeal went unanswered for a moment.

Still watching the mirror, slightly smirking, he replied. "Pardon, I didn't quite hear that. What was that?"

Sarah finally turned around, lust driven, blurting out, "Touch me. Fuck me. I'm yours, we both know that. Why do you have to tease me so?" She had not meant for it to sound so desperate, but she was longing just to feel someone's touch, and knew it could only be his.

Jareth took one step to move slightly behind her. "Oh, I didn't think I was teasing you, Sarah. Not even toying with you really." His fingers migrated slowly up toward her, lightly touching her arm, moving up to her shoulder. "Do you want me?" He whispered cagily. She shuddered more violently as a throaty moan surfaced and escaped her lips. "Oh, dear me Sarah, I see that you do. And here I am, not even fully hard." He was standing at an angle; his eyes went to the mirror meeting hers. "Care to help me out here, Sarah? Would you like me hard?" Her breath caught in her throat, and she was panting at this point. "As hard as when you received your training harness?" He made the suggestion sound Devine.

A little memory of that first experience surfaced. She looked into the mirror, remembering what happened in the Throne Room. "Yes, as hard as that," she answered throatily. Wicked thoughts entered her head as she said in a husky voice, "I think I have a pretty good idea of what you want, Sire."

"I get what I want, you get what you need," he promised in a sultry tone.

"Where?" she asked wondering how long he planned on prolonging her torture this time.

"Here," he said, knowing she was plotting a way around giving him what he desired.

Sarah looked at him in the mirror, "As you wish," she conceded.

Slowly she turned to face him; he shifted so he was now a profile in the mirror. "On your knees to your King," he teased. As she lowered herself to kneel before him, he snuck a look in the mirror, and wished he'd thought to set up a crystal to capture the moment. "You may begin," he said watching the reflection.

"You wish me to…" she stared at his breeches, wondering just how they stayed up.

"The drawstring is within your reach," he said coyly. "Use your left hand." He commanded, keeping watch in the mirror.

Sarah understood; he was not only going to receive what he wanted, but was going to have the pleasure of watching in the mirror. Her left hand gave him an unobstructed view. Her lips pursed into a wicked little simper as a plan began to formulate in her lusty mind. He wanted a show; she'd give him a show, one he'd never forget. Leaning back and arching her back ever so slightly, she reached forward with her left hand. Finding the drawstring with ease, she tugged gently, and watched it give way. His slender hips were first to be undraped, as the breeches floated away from him with only gravity pulling at them. Taking her time, she now leaned forward to nuzzle the caged beast now soaring upward to stand at attention. Her cheek touched the cage, and she moved so her face rubbed over the length of the metal cock-ring. He had coerced her into this arrangement of fellatio, but she's going to tease him as badly as he just teased her. She was going to get a bit of payback.

She flicked her tongue at the coil as the cage and its prisoner were now angled over her face. Starting with a chaste kiss on the tip, she then let her tongue then dart out. She used the tip of her tongue to trace the coil around his cock and balls, always mindful to keep it so he was getting a complete view. She then worked her way back up to the tip of the coil and his bulbous cock head. She swirled her tongue over the rounded tip and heard him moan. Sarah smiled.

Leaning back on her heels, she teased the tip of his cock as she reached up skillfully behind her back, and loosened her gown. It was time to turn up the heat, Sarah did so by taking her breasts out of the top of her gown and playing with the nipples herself. Shrugging out of the top of the gown was easier than removing some of the costumes she'd worn on stage. Her nipple rings now stood out, she took one last long lick down to the base of his balls before she worked her way upward opening her mouth and accepting the cage into her maw.

Jareth watched as she began to play with her nipples, gently at first, then a little rougher. He bent his knees slightly, not only to give her a better angel, but to brace himself for the hip thrusts he was going to deliver to her. The feel of her mouth bathing him, and the vision in the mirror, were driving him to distraction. His right hand came down to caress the crown of her head. "That's it, Sarah." He praised with a throaty laugh. "Get me good and hard."

Her left hand moved up, sliding along his right arm, from the wrist to the elbow and down again. Her mouth was open wide, and he was getting harder. She arched her back, as she began to move back and forth over the caged beast. Her hips began to move in a gentle rolling motion. She closed her eyes, and played with her upturned breasts. With his hand still caressing the back of her head, she began to moan softly over his hardening member. Her hands began to cup her breasts, gently messaging and kneading them as she moaned. All the while, Jareth was watching in the mirror.

He looked down at the face that was paying lip service to his cock. It was not enough, and he wanted more. He pulled his cock from her mouth roughly; his right hand was still in her coils of hair. Forcefully he thrust her backward, and she collapsed on the floor panting, and protesting that she wasn't done. Violently he grabbed hold of the hem of her dress, and rendered it a rag with one brutal tear. Sarah rolled to her side, pouting thinking he was going to leave her without release. He reached forward, and the beautiful gown was torn off her body, leaving her naked to his view. She didn't protest, knowing he was not done with her.

"You call this hard, Sarah? Why, I wouldn't offer this to my maiden great aunt." He taunted. "You'll have to get me much harder if you want me to do any good."

"Perhaps your Majesty is too tired…" she taunted in return. "Why don't you lie down?" She grabbed hold of the waistband of his breeches and yanked them forward. "You look like you could use a rest." She yanked again harder.

"I know you're not done." He growled as he was pulled off balance. "I just want to get comfortable and enjoy the view while I'm at it." He landed beside her on the ground; he looked sideways to find himself alongside the mirror. "Perhaps you're too tired," he suggested watching the reflection of her backside to the mirror. "If this is the best you can do."

Sarah tossed back the hair from her face, and growled like a lioness. "Oh,yeah? Well, I've not even begun to start working you over yet, Fairy boy."

Jareth smiled watching her lunge forward to attack his prong once more. As her mouth lowered over his caged member he turned to the mirror, her body blocked his view. He rose up on his elbows. "I can't properly see what you're doing," he muttered frustrated at being blocked. "Move, Sarah."

In her sexual frenzy, and not wishing to be deprived of the orgasm, she repositioned herself over his face, still blocking his view, but offering him one of his own. "I think that view will be more to your liking," she said as she went down again on him. she continued to tease him by not dropping her hips low enough for him to taste her, then by moving them up and down playfully, driving herself wild with need and him in frustration.

Jareth grabbed at her hips, muttering. "Two can play this game as well, Sarah." His tongue connected with the engorged nub of her clitoris. At first, he was intent on teaching her a lesson, but it changed swiftly as her wet slickness moved over his tongue. Hungrily he moved his mouth over her, licking, flicking, and sucking. Her hips grinding to his face as she rocked to and fro. He could feel the building up in his balls, and he rolled, knocking her off with a cry like a banshee.

Jareth swung his legs and somehow managed to pry her legs around his so that he was looking down at her face and he was between her legs. He had to grab her wrists to hold her down, while she hissed, spat, and growled at him like a cat in heat. She arched her back while trying to claw; nevertheless all she did was frustrate herself. She was violent and primitive, and he wanted her more than he'd ever wanted anything. Savagely he thrust forward, burying himself within her from tip to hilt. Her legs wound over his hips as his mouth met hers in a savage kiss that was brutal and all consuming. She shattered only when he exploded within her, collapsing into a heap beneath him.

Jareth lay still for a moment, not certain he was still breathing. He licked his lips, moved his head slightly, and met her eyes. Wordlessly he began to smile and then snicker until he was laughing as he clung to the woman within whom he was still sheathed; "Not bad, Sarah, not bad."

Beneath him, she snickered as well. "You're not too shabby yourself there, you big Fairy."

Rolling to his side, he kept one hand draped over her. "Conniving little witch," he teased.

"Over confident cheat," she rolled to her side, facing him.

Jareth's slow smile worked its way up to his eyes. "But satisfying, am I not?"

"You're going to break your arm," she quipped softly. "Patting your-self on the back like that."

His draped arm moved so his hand could cup her fanny. "I'd rather pat your backside any day."

Hunger flared again in her. "Fuck me," she whispered. "Fuck me again."

Rolling to take possession of her, Jareth paused, ever so briefly, intent on gloating and enjoying the victory. Seeing the want and need in her eyes, he instead murmured, "With pleasure…Sarah." His body joined with hers, this time unhurriedly. He moved slowly, wanting to savor the pleasure of being the only man whom Sarah would ever bear touching her. "Sarah," he moaned softly before his lips took hers.


	36. Chapter 36

**Chapter 36. The truce stands**

It was very late when Sarah found herself standing before the door of the Scribes Scroll room. Jareth had been called away on a summons, leaving her in the training room alone and more confused than ever. The palace seemed still, not even her guards were about, and there was no means of returning to the tower. Seated in the training room, looking at her reflection, she knew the answers she sought were not here. After dressing she wondered the halls moving back to the room she'd fled earlier. She tapped lightly on the door frame and called within. "Lutin are you still here?"

The Hobgoblin Lutin, quill in hand, peeped out of an alcove. "_**Tagaan**_," he addressed her respectfully. "You're up late."

"The King was called away on a summons," she said lamely. "I…" she paused, uncomfortable with the request she was about to make. "I'd like to use the Babel again if I might."

Lutin waved her in, and motioned to the table that was just as she'd left it. "I was certain you'd find that you needed to." He said in an accommodating tone. "Would you care for some tea or perhaps something stronger?"

"No, thank you." She said taking her seat and placing the chained Babel once more about her neck. "I'm not even sure how long I'll be here…my guards seemed to have gone missing."

"You were with the King," a voice said from the doorway. "There was no need for us to remain within your sight."

The mortal girl looked over at the goblin woman who was wearing a confident smile. "So you were aware of where I was and with whom the whole time?"

"Of course," Daisy said striding easily into the chamber and taking a seat beside the girl. "A person guard always knows where their responsibility lies."

Blushing Sarah turned her attentions to the scrolls, "I suppose I more or less asked for that, didn't I?"

"Indeed," Daisy agreed easily.

The mortal sighed, and looked at the pile before her. "Where to start?"

"The beginning is always a good place," suggested Lutin who was now hovering in case his expertise was needed. "I would suggest you begin with the scroll of laws."

"I think the scroll of lineage would be a better start," protested Daisy.

"Law first," cautioned the Scribe. "Lineage follows."

Unrolling the scroll, Sarah began to read the basic laws that were first issued in the Kingdom. "Lutin, who founded these laws?"

"The Great Goblin Kings," he said proudly.

Sarah read further, and then paused. "Is there a scroll of the current laws?"

"You plan on making a side by side comparison?" He asked as he moved to unroll the requested scroll.

"Something like that," Sarah admitted. "Now, if you could, I'd like to know who founded which law, and what race they were."

Daisy snickered. "She's a quick wit, I told you!"

Lutin looked at her, reading the mortal and liking what he saw. "You Sarah Williams, _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_ of Jareth _**Tuatha Dé Danann Huukec Mec, Warrior King**_ are a very shrewd woman."

She fingered the Babel, "This thing… makes you think in goblin terms…not just read and understand."

"Indeed," the Hobgoblin agreed.

"Who created the Babel?" she asked.

The Scribe hesitated before answering her question. "Long ago, my Lady, the Goblin Race was far more powerful than it is today. You have witnessed yourself the lower ranking goblins and their archaic simple magic." He drew himself up, proudly. "I and your guard are of the greater Hobgoblin races, and we were once as powerful in magic as some Fae. OH not perhaps as the Royal Fae, not as powerful as the High King, but we were capable of great magics. Some of the artifacts of that time still exist." He pointed to the disk at her throat.

"This was created by a Goblin?" Sarah gasped.

"Indeed it was," Lutin stated; "As was the foundations of this palace."

"What happened?" Sarah asked. "This is not the work of some ninny." She waved a hand at the walls of the chamber.

Looking at the guard, the Scribe ventured a suggested answer. "My Lady, what was one of the first things you learned when you entered the Labyrinth?"

"That nothing is as it seems?"She asked in reply, and then tapped her chin with delicate fingers. "I see." She turned her attentions to the scrolls and frowned. "These Kings that followed the last Goblin King, they didn't understand the Kingdom at all…" her frown deepened as she read on. "The Labyrinth was here before the Goblins?"

"That is unclear," Lutin stated. "However it responded to the reign of each King in its own way. After the last great Goblin King, it only responded well to our present King."

Something prickled at the back of her mind, and she murmured the Arthurian dogma. "The King and the Land are one."

The scribe looked at the guard before addressing the King's slave. "That is perhaps the best explanation I've heard."

Sarah's expression was on of frustration. "Did the High King know what these idiots were doing?"

"As long as we were quiet," Daisy said insultingly; "The High Court gave little care to our lands and how they were ruled."

Tossing the offending scroll aside, Sarah looked at her guard. "They treated you like red headed step children." The Hobgoblins looked at her with mild surprise at the depth of her understanding. She picked up the next scroll, "This is the lineage?" Both Hobgoblins nodded quickly. Sarah's fingers unrolled the scroll carefully, respectful of its age and the content within. She began to read, murmuring to herself. Once or twice her eyes opened wide as she learned secrets to the kingdom that the High Court had either overlooked or choose to pass over. She had begun to read about the last great Goblin King when the air in the palace changed drastically. "He comes," she said standing. "Something is wrong," she moved so swiftly from the table that she'd forgotten all about the Babel still hanging from her throat into her décolletage.

Daisy moved promptly and speedily at her side. They arrived in the throne room to find the King seated in his throne with a heartbreaking expression of melancholy. Della appeared in the throne room moments after they did, she had been having a late night feeding, and had not bothered to wash feeling the urgency. Sarah moved forward, motioning the rest to stay put. She placed a hand on the King's. "Sire?"

Jareth looked up, "There was nothing I could do," he murmured.

"Where is the child?" she asked softly, eager to be of some kind of aide.

The long gloved fingers surrounded the smaller feminine ones that hand laid on his hand. "Where he will never have to suffer again," his voice was hoarse, "In a place where he can be."

The girl understood, Jareth had been forced under circumstances she'd rather not think about to turn the child. Her fingers tightened about his, comfortingly. "You are tired, Sire," she reached her free hand out to his chin. "Let me help you to your chamber." She could see that having to turn a mortal to goblin took a great deal of his strength, and he was tired and pale.

Jareth looked up at her, angry with the world she'd come from, but not wishing to rail at her for the mistakes of others. "I'm bad company, Sarah."

"What of it?" She stroked his cheek. "Consider this an extension of the Toby Truce." She offered with generosity.

Saddened, and exhausted beyond endurance, he nodded. "Thank you, Sarah." He moved slowly, like someone who was very old and depleted of their strength.

Sarah draped his arm over her shoulder. "Della," she called to the Harpy, knowing her strength was superior to all of theirs. "Help me get the King to his chambers." She requested softly. Della moved without question or insult, she placed her taloned claw about the King with the talons curled so they would not inflict injury. Daisy followed leaving the lower ranking goblins left behind in the throne room mourning and lamenting.

In the King's chamber Sarah pulled back the coverlet and directed the Harpy to lay the King down gently. The guards then stood back as Sarah made the King comfortable, removing his boots and his cape. The mortal girl unfastened the battle armor and removed the breastplate as well. Pale, fatigued, and pained to his soul, the man reached out his hand, capturing the wrist of the young woman.

"Stay," he whispered.

"Of course," she murmured as she waved the guards toward the door. The King's valet peered in; seeing the _**Tagaan**_ was seeing to the King's needs bowed out of the room quietly and went back to his own bed. Sarah pulled the covers up around the worn out man, and tucked them in the way she had for Toby on occasion.

Eyes filled with pain, Jareth looked at her. "Lie with me," he requested softly. "I have no wish to be alone, just now." Sarah removed her gown, draping it over the end of his bed and crawled in between the sheets beside him. He turned, pulled her close and closed his eyes. "Thank you, Sarah."

"Go to sleep," she said firmly, unwilling to give more than this.

--

Della placed bloodied talons to her hips. "What the hell happened? When I left to feed, she'd fled the chamber of scrolls! I come back to find her acting like a nursemaid!"

"She returned to the chamber of scrolls," Daisy said holding out her hand expectantly.

Rage filled the eyes of the Harpy. "That Bitch is costing me a fortune!"

Counting the coins in the purse, Daisy countered softly. "That woman is the hope of our nation, Harpy. I suggest you remember that."

--

The sun rose over the Labyrinth, and peeked into the chamber of its King through the drawn curtains. Sarah opened her eyes, to find herself still encircled by the strong arms that had held her close through what had remained of the night. Shifting lightly she planed on leaving this bed and seeking a means to return to her chambers to bathe.

"Don't go," a voice whispered.

Sarah turned, his eyes were shut but she knew he was awakening. "I need to bathe," she whispered.

"We'll bathe later," his eyes stayed closed and his arms remained about her. "Together."

Uncomfortable with this situation, Sarah sighed. "Jareth, while I sympathize with what the requirements of your responsibility to your occupation are, it changes nothing between us."

Stormy eyes opened, and a grim line formed on his lips. "I had not thought that it had."

"We are enemies." She stated firmly. "I am nothing more than a prisoner of war."

"You are far more than a mere prisoner of war, Sarah. Even you have to admit that." He challenged as he moved his hand over her.

Sarah pulled away from him, "I am not playing this game this morning."

Jareth looked at the disk that dangled between her full and well rounded breasts. "What is this?" His fingers reached out and touched the Babel.

Looking down, Sarah realized she'd forgotten to remove the disc when she'd exited the scribe's chambers so hurriedly. "It's called a Babel Lutin said. It helps me to read Goblin text." She answered without trying to think up a lie.

Long fingers still encased in leather gloves moved to trace the swell of her breast. "I approve." He said watching her react to his advances.

"Jareth, I'm in no mood to play games." She warned him.

"Whose playing?" He challenged as he moved the gloved hand that had been tracing her skin to his lips. He bit at the tips of the glove and removed it, then tossed it aside. His bare hand then returned to retrace the swell of her breast. His thumb began to work over the nipple hardening it. "Stay with me," he entreated invitingly.

Sarah sunk back into the pillows. "Damn you," she moaned. "You know I can't resist this." He was now tugging the other glove off with his teeth, a wicked gleam in his eyes. Sarah looked at him with longing building like a banked fire. "Do you ever fight fair?"

He waved his wrist; his garments vanished like mists in the sunlight. "No," he admitted as he pressed his lips to the breast he'd been playing with. He licked the nub before taking it into his mouth to suckle like a hungry child. Moments later he was feasting on the other raised nub as well. She moaned under him and arched in response. "Would you have me fight fair?" He asked as he moved his hand down to her waist.

"No," she answered in a mewl.

He moved, now he was between her legs. "Admit it, little witch, we are a well matched pair. Cruel, vindictive and ruthless, look at how mercilessly we treat each other."

"You started it," she protested.

"No," he denied withholding his entry. "But I will finish it." He promised coldly.

Sarah looked at him, still awed by his unearthly beauty. His body was unlike any man she'd seen. He was lean, but muscular; there was nothing soft about him. His scent filled the room and overpowered her. "Are you planning on just teasing me to death here?" she demanded just as coldly.

"Beg for it," he said knowing he was pushing her beyond limits.

"Go to hell," she shivered denying her own need.

Snorting like a bull, the King let his heavy phallus fall onto her abdomen with enough force that it caused her to lose her startled breath. "You just said that in perfect Goblin, Sarah." He waited, between her legs, looking at her with an expectant expression on his face. "My will is strong," he challenged.

Sarah growled. "I won't beg."

"Then ask," he suggested softly. "Perhaps I'm still generous."

"No," Sarah glowered as the shiver of desire coursed through her.

He looked down at her body, so desirable just within reach. "You win this time," he said as he readjusted his position, and sheathed himself deeply with in her. Each of them shivered in delight as they were joined. "Your will is as strong," he conceded as he knelt grabbing hold of her wrists and dragging her upward to a near seated position. "Wrap those legs about me, I wish to ride you as wildly as you were born to be ridden." He commanded.

Sarah's eyes filled with excitement, she did as he bid without further protest. Her arms locked over his shoulders, her breasts crushed up against his chest. "Oh God, yes." She moaned.

Jareth slowed the rhythms, and looked at her. "I will never let you go." He warned her. "I will keep you forever." He shoved into her even deeper. "There is no escaping your fate Sarah."

Tingling with sexual release and the pleasures of being touched, she met his thrusting hips. "There is no escape for you either, is there?"

Savagely he gripped her hips and forced her to accept even more of his caged shaft. "Does it appear to you that I'm trying to escape?"

Leaning to his ear she whispered. "Is that all you've got, Fairy boy?" Tossing back his head, the King roared as he quickened the pace, and the force of his thrusts.

--

Jareth lay in the deep tub as Sarah washed him. "You will move into my chamber." He said.

"No," Sarah said quietly.

He looked surprised; "Why not?"

"I'm a slave," she countered. "Your chamber is not for the housing of your slave. Someday you will take a Queen," she ventured.

"Never," he said firmly.

Sarah stopped washing him. "You may have little choice," she warned. "You're the King of a Kingdom that has not had a natural born heir in generations."

He sighed in exasperation. "Just how many scrolls did you read while I was out?"

Turning to look at him she tossed the sea sponge aside. "Jareth, it only stands to reason, that the High King expects you to take a wife, and procreate." She frowned. "I'm not a fool; I know no Queen born of the Fae will be content to allow a slave to inhabit the quarters that by rights belong to her." With a dignity she never understood, she rose from the waters and exited the bath. "I thank you for the offer, Sire. But I must decline." She wrapped a bath towel about herself and bowed to him. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be returning to my tower."

Jareth watched her go, he made no effort to stop her, as her words troubled him. One hand had come to his chin and lips, and he contemplated the vast truth she'd spoken. As the son of the High King he was expected to take a wife. And most would expect her to be a Fae or one of the Ethereal. Sarah was right; none of them would allow him to keep his precious slave in the bedchambers. Pained he closed his eyes. This situation was becoming more and more tangled a web of deceit.

--

Daisy watched the woman dress and pin up her damp hair. "You turned him down?" She repeated for the tenth time.

"Yes, Daisy I turned him down." Sarah sighed.

The guard shrugged, "I don't understand."

"Sometimes," Sarah said, as she stepped into slippers; "You have to do what is right, not what you want to do." She looked at her guards. Daisy who was looking at her in confusion and Della in disdain, "Is there a physician or a healer in the castle right now?"

Daisy became instantly alert. "Are you ill?"

"No," Sarah stated firmly. "I wish to prevent a …illness."

Della shrugged. "I can take you to the healer's rooms."

--

Ghillie Dhu was taking an inventory of herbs when Sarah and the Harpy appeared at his window. He looked at the pair somewhat surprised to see the mortal girl. "Miss Williams isn't it?" he addressed her formally.

"Yes, Healer." She motioned the Harpy to stay where she was. "I have need to speak to you sir." She drew him aside, not wishing her words to be overheard. "I have to ask you something…something very important."

"Ask child," he said listening carefully.

"This is rather delectate," she whispered.

Amused the old healer smirked. "My dear child, I'm a healer there is no subject you can not discuss with me."

Sarah took him at his word. "How do I prevent a pregnancy?"

Not knowing what he had really expected to hear, Ghillie Dhu staggered back, staring at the girl.


	37. Chapter 37

**Chapter 37. Questions, no answers**

Devon found Jareth at the edge of the forest, brooding. "You look terrible, cousin," the Baron commented coolly as he took a seat on the stone wall beside the path. Quietly he wondered why the Ruler had come here, instead of his favorite haunt, the puzzle room.

One gloved hand came up in a gesture that was vulgar at best, and his face was grim. The King knew he looked terrible, he didn't care. "I've been hoist on my own petard." He muttered darkly.

"Really," Devon asked carefully; he'd seen his cousin in such moods before; "How so?"

Jareth stood up, began to pace a few steps, tapping his leg with the riding crop he often carried. "I told Sarah she was to be moved into my chambers," he sighed deeply as he paced.

"Were there fireworks?" Devon smirked; "Was the girl properly grateful, did she throw herself at your feet in appreciation?"

"She turned me down," the reply came in huff as the man paced slowly, taking his time while contemplating his situation.

Slipping off the wall, Devon placed his hands behind his back, and mulled over the significance. "She turned you down?"

Nodding the King continued to pace. "Not only did the blasted woman turn me down, but she had irrefutable facts on her side! She rendered me speechless." With troubled eyes he turned to his cousin and confidante. "She said my chambers were not for the housing of a slave, but for a Queen. That my station could someday demand I take a Queen and give the Kingdom an heir."

"That is sound judgment," Devon mused. "You didn't tell me your little witch had brains as well as beauty."

Frustration registered on the King's face. "I never gave it more than a passing thought," he admitted. "At first, I thought being sent here was a punishment, you know that."

Devon shrugged, he was well aware of his cousin's feelings on the matter of having been named the Goblin King.

"Taking a Queen has not been in my thoughts, not since Sarah… refused my offers when she ran the Labyrinth." Pacing again he tapped out a tattoo with the swagger stick. "Certainly not before that, I never considered taking a Queen, I saw no need of one."

"Well refusing the offers of dreams…" Devon rationalized quietly; "when one is so young…"

"I didn't just offer her, her blasted dreams Devon! I offered her me!" Jareth roared, still burning over the rejection. "I never sang Fae song to any other living being! Nor do I plan on singing to another ever again."

Devon cleared his throat, "That could pose problems if the High Court demands you take a Queen."

Jareth chewed on the inside of his cheek, "Devon I marked her." He said lowly.

The Baron dropped al pretence at civility and calmness. "You what?"

"Marked her," Jareth repeated.

Thunderous reality fell over the Baron. "Does anyone know?"

"In the High Courts, no," Jareth shook his head, and began to pace once more. "But Sarah knows, damn her, she knows."

--

Ghillie Dhu stared at the mortal girl, "I beg your pardon?" He asked shakily as he came to his senses.

Sarah ignored his look of revulsion. "Look, if I were Above, I'd know how to prevent my getting pregnant, but I'm not there, I'm here." She spoke in a rush of words. "I have to prevent the possibility of _**him**_ getting me with child."

"Blasphemy!" The Healer cried in scorn backing away slightly as if fearful of contamination.

Her shoulders hunched, and the mask of bravado fell away. "Healer, I cannot allow him to get me with child." She began to wring her hands. "No child born of a slave will ever be acceptable to the High Courts… no child born of a slave can rule." She began to feel the sting of tears. "And no child born to a slave belongs to its mother…."

The old healer began to see her point of view. "Child," he spoke gently to her, knowing she was upset enough as it was. "Come sit with me," he extended a hand to her and drew her toward a set of chairs against the far wall. "I understand your predicament; I hope you'll understand mine…" He drew a long breath. "The Fae don't …they are not able to…" He frowned; it was a difficult subject to broach. "Fae women do not reproduce quite as well as mortal women do."

"I understand that," she whispered. "But I also know Fae men don't always leave their mortal lovers with a child…"

"True enough," Ghillie Dhu agreed. "However, we are not talking about just any Fae man here, now are we?"

Sarah sighed deeply, "No."

"There is only one fool proof way of preventing a pregnancy…." The old healer mused.

"Not an option," Sarah protested. "I'm his…_** Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_, his slave in bondage… I can't refuse him entry to my bed, or refuse to come to his… believe me I would if I could." When the old one raised one brow she huffed. "Alright that's not exactly true, either." Sarah admitted shyly. "Healer there has to be some way."

He looked terribly uncomfortable. "Child you are asking me to commit a crime."

"No I'm not." Sarah protested.

Ghillie Dhu looked more upset than uncomfortable now. "On the contrary, you are not only asking me to commit a crime against the laws of the Fae, but to commit an act of treason against the King in whose country I dwell."

"I can't have his baby," Sarah stated brutally.

The old healer wished he could comfort her but knew he could not offer more than a few words. "Perhaps he has no intentions of getting you with child… unless he wishes it, you will not be," the healer paused looking for the right term; "Impregnated."

"You mean he can knock me up or not at will?" Sarah blustered out vulgarly. "It's up to him, my inners has nothing to do with it?"

"Fae physicality is not exactly the same as mortals, you did know that. While your body must be receptive of his…seed, it is he who determines whether or not there will be seed. I was under the impression that you understood the differences in our physicality." The Healer said calmly. "You were the one who put an iron restraint about the King, were you not?"

Guilt over her part in the deeds that had nearly killed Jareth showed on her face. "I didn't want him dead," she muttered. "I just wanted back what he stole from me…"

"What exactly is it you claim he stole," demanded the old man.

"Well let's see, you can start with he stole my baby brother…" Sarah had risen from her seat, her angry words erupting.

"Ah, and you had no part in the boy being take?" taunted the old Fae knowing he was hearing only a half truth.

"Okay, I said something I shouldn't have said. Nevertheless that does not give him the right…" She protested guiltily.

"Of course it does," interjected the old one. "You're a Celt, are you not? Surely you understood the long standing agreement betwixt your blood and ours. A wished away child is the property of the Goblin community, every Celt knows that. He had every right to take the child, and that is what he did. He took the child, he did not steal him. You more or less gave him to the King."

Stomping a foot Sarah bellowed at the man. "I didn't mean it! I never meant it! I was just pissed that I was stuck at home watching the kid while Daddy and Karen got to go out and have fun!" Hearing her own words she seethed angrily. She thought she was over the resentment and frustrations of that night so long ago. "It wasn't fair! It's not fair!" She began to tear up. "I risked my life to get Toby back, doesn't that count for anything?" Sarah stomped her foot again, angry that tears were now coming. "Have you any idea of how much I wanted to just accept the offered gifts the King kept shoving at me? And what does he do, he steals my dreams…."

The old healer shook his head, "What do you mean?"

"He's got them locked up in a crystal orb… he keeps them by his bed." She snarled, "Like some God damned fucking trophy! Watching them, toying with them, for all I know he could be taking an active part in them!"

Ghillie Dhu had lived a very long time, and he thought he'd heard almost every thing that was possible to hear. He found he was wrong. Every time he thought he'd had the boy King figured out, he found he was wrong. "So that's what he's been hiding," muttered the old man distractedly. "Child, tell me this… why would King Jareth feel he is due your dreams? He certainly would not take them simply because you refused the offer of them. There has to be a reason he feels they belong to him… what did you take from him?"

"I didn't take anything from him!" She protested a little louder than she'd wanted to. "I ran his Labyrinth! He pilfered precious hours from me, threw every obstacle he could think of in my way, dropped me down a damn Oubliette, and nearly plunged me into the bog of stench…." She began to chant the litany of her journey. "Then the bastard hides my brother in that fucking puzzle room and I have to leap to get from where I am to where Toby was sitting, very likely breaking my neck!" She stood up. "Does that sound like I took something from him?"

Ghillie Dhu nodded, "You took the child."

"I won him back!" she snarled; "Fair and square!"

He had known the boy King from birth on, he'd known this plucky human only for a few brief weeks. Ghillie Dhu mused to himself that this time the boy had met his match; this mortal girl was just as stubborn and willful as the Goblin King. He mused she was just as spirited as the woman whose title she now bore. "And still he harvested your dreams into a vessel."

"Him and those damned crystals," Sarah was muttering, not even noticing the eyes of the old healer watching her like a hawk. "Turn it this way," she said mocking the King's voice and inflections. "It'll show you your dreams…" she waved her hands much the way Jareth had in her brother's nursery. "Look at what I'm offering you Sarah…." She snarled. Her words drew the complete attention of the old one now. He listened carefully. "Putting me a ball gown; waltzing me up and down before all those people! Singing to me," she was so caught up in her own fury she forgot where she was. Rage filled her and she cried out in frustration, her hands now balled up fists digging nails into her own palms.

"He gave you a choice," muttered the old man to himself. "The child or your dreams, and you took the child." He shook his head. "There must be more to it…"

"Turning my friend against me, sending me that poisoned peach…" She was still muttering angrily.

"What poisoned peach?" He said loud enough to get her attention.

"The peach he had Hoggle give me." Sarah snarled.

"And you ate it?"

Sarah, still angry snapped. "I was hungry!"

"The Persephone Cannon…" the old man sighed. "He used the Cannon to trap you, and I'll bet he used it on the baby as well…"

"What?" Sarah stopped her angry sputtering of words. "What did you just say?" Her face had lost all the color of rage and was now deathly pale.

Motioning her to be seated, the Healer took her hands. "You do understand the Cannon don't you?"

"Sort of," she admitted quietly. "But I only took one bite of the peach," she said defensively. "It couldn't have… I mean one lousy bite?"

"How old were you at the time?" Questioned the old healer, thinking fast.

"Fifteen," Sarah said disgusted.

"History does repeat itself," he muttered. "I sorry my dear, but if the King wishes to get you with child, there is little I can do to prevent it." He stood up. "I suggest you and the King discuss your options and quickly."

The Harpy was still at the window, Sarah looked at the healer. "You won't help me?"

"I cannot, there's a difference." He stated with terrible calm.

Sarah shook her head, moved toward the window. "Thank you for your time, sir." She motioned the harpy to take hold of her, flinching as the creature touched her.

"A moment," the healer said. "Why do you flinch when this one touches you, does she repulse you so much?"

"With a few exceptions, I can not bear the touch of others." Sarah said, "Its part of the punishment the King has decreed upon me." She motioned the Harpy to fly.

The Healer shook his head, "How like Zoltarie, Jareth is." He made a mental note to have a long discussion with the High King on the subject of his son. He looked at the window the _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_ had just exited. "This one is more clear thinking than the last one," he mused.

--

Devon entered the foyer of his home; he could hear the sounds of harp music coming from the music room. He moved toward the sounds, and came to rest against the frame of the open door. He watched as Bryn strummed the strings of the instrument skillfully, her face at peace. "That's lovely," he commented as she finished.

Moss green eyes met the clear blue ones. "I didn't hear you come in."

Walking slowly he moved into the room to join her. "You were intent on your playing."

"Thank you for the ability," she set the harp up right, leaving her hands on it for a moment. "I've always loved Celtic harp music; to be able to play it is a great source of pleasure." She looked from the instrument to the man. "You seem troubled, Baron."

"So formal," he sighed sadly. "I had hoped we were progressing past this point, Cariad."

She sighed, "I think there are times when we seem to end up back at square one." Her face was calm, but she felt strange energies surging within her. "What's wrong, Devon?"

He closed his eyes, blocking out everything but the sound of her voice, and her breathing; "Your friend and my cousin, for one thing."

"Theirs is a troubled affiliation," agreed the red haired girl. "I doubt even they have an understanding of the workings of their bond."

Blue eyes opened, less pained and by far calmer. "Play something for me, Cariad. Something healing."

--

Sarah moved away from the Harpy as soon as she set foot in the tower. She moved as far away as she could get, and that meant going into the bathing area. Daisy looked at the winged female, before going to the King's slave's side.

"The healer was of no help?" she asked.

"He says he can't help me, a matter of Fae law." Sarah leaned on the tile wall, trying to cool down and calm down.

"He is Fae, and subject to laws that even we are not." Daisy agreed. "What was it you needed of him?"

Looking at the guard, the _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_ spoke carefully. "Something I read in that first scroll," Sarah refused to allow tears, not now, not here. "You know the laws?"

"Goblin laws, yes, Fae laws I'm a bit murky on," Daisy moved closer. "What did you read?"

"No child born of a slave," Sarah whispered before the words caught in her throat. She turned, placed her face on the cool tiles and allowed her tears to flow. "Daisy, I cannot allow him to get me with child!" She sobbed.

Knowing this was not the time to discuss the scrolls, Daisy moved closer and placed a hand to the girls shoulder. The girl didn't even flinch, and Daisy knew the changes were happening much quicker than any of them had expected. The King's curse upon the girl didn't work against Goblin touch any longer. She murmured soft words of comfort, "Sarah, what will be, will be. Take courage, and don't lose faith."

Red eyed, and desolate, the mortal girl barely noticed the hands on her shoulders as she sobbed into the wall.


	38. Chapter 38

**Chapter 38. Snakes in the garden**

Circe watched the sunset, standing on the windswept cliff high above the palace gardens at Avalon. The last days of the winter festival were drawing to an end and soon she and her father would be taking their leave of the High Courts. She sipped from the goblet in her hand, as she watched the sun dip into the cool waters of the seas that surrounded the lovely isle. Though the vintage was exceptional, as were most of the wines served here, it left a bitter taste in the mouth of the woman looking out to sea.

"Contemplating someone's down fall?" Her father asked as he came to stand beside her.

Handing him the goblet she nodded. "A Goblin's down fall father."

Talagon knew his daughter would not speak so openly were she not assured of their privacy. Still he didn't relish speaking here, "I prefer we not discuss that here or now." He sipped the wine.

Circe looked from the sea to where the lights in the palace of the High King were being lit. "It was folly," she stated coldly. "Him, _**the almighty High King**_, giving the Keys to the Goblin Kingdom to that prancing upstart fop."

"Jareth is the son of the High King, I am not," he reminded her in a terse tone. "Mind that tongue of yours."

Placing her hand upon his sleeve, but still looking down at the grounds of the grand estates of the High King, she laughed. "No one can hear us, Father." Her eyes were indifferent, and her lovely face seemed exceptionally dreadful. "They are all too busy with the distractions of playing their own little games of court intrigue."

Not convinced, the man cautioned again. "Daughter, there is too much at stake to take chances." He drank deeply of the goblet now. "We must employ prudence."

She looked at the man with self-assured eyes. "Of course, Father, of course." She took the goblet from his hands once more; "Soon though we shall begin putting all our little players on their stage. Beginning with sweet little Tanya Winderspire." The woman pursed her lips pleased it had taken so little effort to ensnare the naive girl. "Foolish child."

Talagon gave her a shrewd smile. "Sometimes I do believe, my dear, that you have more disdain for our ilk than I do."

Shrugging the young woman licked the traces of wine from her lips. "I detest waste, and I see so much of it." Her voice was sarcastic as she spoke to her parent and coconspirator. "I don't understand why the High King has allowed things to become so…"

"Lax," offered her father.

"Laissez-faire," she corrected him. "We are becoming a joke, and not a funny one at that. In the world of the mundane we are not even regarded as real any longer. They do not fear us, nor do they revere us." She looked again at the palace of the High King. "All the blame for that lies at the feet of the High King."

Sighing he nodded in agreement, Talagon moved to stand behind her. "Once we are rid of that which stands in our way, we can move to strengthen our kind." He whispered at her ear. "There are many who long again for the days of power."

Circe passed the goblet once more to her parent. "To the days of power, Above as well as Underground."

Her father drained the cup.

--

Oberon sat alone in the highest spire of the tallest tower in his beautiful palace. No light, just the window, he clasped his hands and leaned forward in his seat to rest his arms on his thighs. A ragged sobbing breath escaped his lips.

The High Queen moved quietly up the steps to the King's secret place. He came there when the frivolity got to be too much for him. She had seen him steal away from the merrymaking and revelry, and had let him have some time to himself. Now the guests were looking for their King, and she knew he would not want others to know about the tower. "Oberon," she called softly. "May I enter?"

"Do so, wife." He called back to her.

She found him staring out the tower window, seated still with his hands clasped, however now his regal chin rested on the clasped hands. Looking in the direction of his gaze she asked softly. "Is something amiss, my King and husband?"

"It has begun," he stated in a dark murmur.

Tatiana moved to the window, eyes scanning the darkening landscape. "Where, who?"

Oberon shook his head, "No, that I will not give to you."

She looked from the window to the man. "We can still stop them!" She moved to kneel at the side of her husband. "We could at least warn the boy."

Placing a hand to her face the High King gazed at her with tender eyes. "You know as well as I we must remain neutral."

Dropping the veneer she wore, the High Queen placed her head to the knee before her. "I don't want to lose the boy," she moaned.

"We won't," the King promised. "Come sweet wife, pull your self together, we must return to our guests." He rose, pulling her to her feet as well. "Paste on your pretty smile, Tatiana. We must appear unaware."

She nodded, and the veneer returned, but before she'd allow him to take a step she whispered. "What will you tell Linda?"

Oberon sighed, thinking of the sweet mortal who carried a child for him. "Nothing, not just yet, perhaps…never," he moved past his wife who frowned, then painted on her smile.

--

Jareth returned from his walk, looked up and saw the light in the tower. Like a moth drawn to the flame he transformed from man to owl and took wing. He transformed back to man once he entered the tower. Looking at the guards who were seated watching the woman, he gave them a gesture to send them away. Sarah looked up at him, and then looked away again. Jareth approached, she was seated on the edge of her bed, staring at the fire in the hearth.

"Sarah," he sighed as he cupped his hand to touch her face.

The young woman looked up at him, defiance and pain overflowing in her beautiful green eyes. "Why didn't you just kill me?" she whispered dejectedly.

Roughly he pulled her from the chair, once she was standing; he tipped her face up to his. "I could no more destroy you than I could destroy me." His voice held a hard edge. "Hurt you, yes; break you, with out batting an eye lash… but never end your existence." His arms encircled her waist. "You are _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_, we are bound by ties that few have ever experienced."

Sarah nodded, "All because I wished away my brother…"

"No," he corrected her. "It began long before that." His admission drew her undivided interest. "I will not speak sweet nothings to you." He stated coldly. "Not now."

"Good," she pulled free of his embrace. "I don't want your…words." She moved away from him, away from the bed and temptation to forget what she'd read and revel in the passions she knew he awakened in her. "In fact, there is nothing you have that I want. Except my dreams and my freedom, and someday Fairy Boy, I intend to get them both back."

Jareth smiled, a fitting and spiting Sarah was far more entertaining than a brooding one. "I've asked Donatien Sade to return and continue your training." He directed his speech to her casually.

Sarah paused, before moving to the furthest point of the tower room, near a vile rack made to humiliate its captive sexually. "What is the point of all this, Goblin King?" She touched the rack. "You've broken me; I behave like a good little pet in public, don't I?"

Regarding her, the King raised one elegant brow. "I doubt you could ever be really broken, though I will continue try." He growled in the back of his throat. "Do you know what that is you are holding onto, woman?"

Looking at the rack with an expression of disinterest, Sarah sighed. "Should I care?"

"It is called a St. Andrew's cross," Jareth ignored her less than enthusiastic response. "I would think you'd find it…fascinating."

"I'm not interested in the least," she said trying to sound convincing as she tried to move away from the implement of bondage while staying as far from the bed as she could get.

The Goblin King was already beside her, gripping her shoulders. "I think you'll find this little toy very entertaining."

"Let me go," she warned.

"Never," he replied forcing her to take a seat on the racks narrow seat. His hands worked quickly to cuff the wrist closest to him.

"Stop," she barked. "I'm not in the mood for this…"

"As if I care what kind of mood you're in," Jareth grabbed the hand that went to prevent him from finishing the restraint and soon that one was also bound. "Now your ankles, my _**Tagaan**_," he murmured as he moved to her legs that were lashing out trying to connect with his shin. "Now, now Sarah," he chuckled. "Is that anyway for a good little girl to behave?"

"Jareth stop!" she shouted just before he shoved a ball gag into her open mouth. Her head went back, and she banged it on the wooden slats of the cross in frustration. She looked at him with outraged eyes.

Jareth knelt between her legs that he was now forcing apart. "OH don't fret so, I've no intentions of ravishing you." He ran his hands up her thighs and then down to the roundness of her fanny. "Not just now, at any rate. This is just one way of getting your attention." He murmured as he continued to stroke her body. "You have a very bad habit that must be corrected," his teeth showed, and his smile was no pleasant. "You keep refusing my offers." He sighed. "I cannot allow that to continue. First you refuse the gift I brought you so long a distance, than you refuse my offer to allow you to concede, and you destroy a perfectly charming ballroom… refuse your dreams, and now you even refuse to be moved into my chambers." Her scent changed, it had the moment he began to run his hands over. His eyes widened, pleasantly. "Why Sarah," he mused. "You're getting turned on, aren't you, you dirty little girl you." He chucked softly again, moving his hands to her breasts. Her soft moan was his reward. "Pity I have no intentions of taking care of that just now." He teased; Sarah looked at him with frustration. He moved his hand up to the gag and paused. "If you shout, or bellow or even bark, back in it goes. Understand?"

Sarah nodded, and waited until the gag was gone before she moved her jaw. "God I hate those things."

Jareth tossed it aside, "You would prefer an ring gag perhaps?"

"No," she protested softly. "Jareth let me out of this contraption."

His hands had moved back to her breasts and were messaging softly. "No, you'll stay put until I've had my say." He watched as she settled back, and turned her face up to his. "Good." He leaned forward. "You refused my offer to have you in my bedchamber and," he paused not ecstatic at having to admit anything to her. "You were right to do so."

Sarah leaned her head back on the wooden frame of the rack she was cuffed to. "Well I'll be…" She could see it was galling him to have to admit anything to her. "You didn't think it out did you?" she accused coyly. "This whole gambit, you didn't think it out."

"Did you?" he turned the tables on her. "Did you really think out what your revenge was going to set in motion?"

"No," she sighed. "I was going on raw instinct and nerves, and a lack of dreams." She thought of the night only a little over two months ago. "I allowed Lilith too much leeway, and she used my condition to move things way beyond where I wanted them to be." Looking at the King, Sarah sighed. "You would never have returned my dreams to me, would you?"

The hands on the soft flesh of her breasts tightened becoming painful. "No, I was never going to return your dreams, not even if you asked me nicely."

"And all that talk about a rematch was just smoke and mirrors to make me feel even guiltier when you held your mock trial." Sarah accused.

"Would you have taken a rematch knowing the outcome would surely not be in your favor this time," he questioned with an edge to his voice.

It was a few moments before Sarah could find the words to speak. "No, I would never want to cross you again. Twice was enough for a life time."

"I didn't declare the war," he reminded her coldly.

"Didn't you?"

Jareth stood up and began to pace. "When you refused my offer of staying in my chamber, I was stunned." He was reflective and clasped his hands behind his back. "You're reasoning has given me pause."

Sarah watched him, he moved slowly, thoughtfully. "And what is your… opinion?"

He shrugged, before coming back to stand before her. "I have no desire to take a Queen." He stated flatly. "Too few care about the Goblins as it is, and a Queen who does not understand them or care for their needs would be a disaster."

"From what I observed at the Solstice festival, you may not have much of a say." Sarah offered softly. "There were a few notable ladies preening for you."

"Let them," his disdain filled his voice.

Sarah shook her head, "Jareth, you're the son of the High King, even you are not so dense and dim-witted not to see that the Court is going to demand that you take a Queen."

Stormy eyes moved over her, achingly. "I offered my throne once, it will not be offered again." He walked toward the window. "You may stay here in your tower, _**Tagaan**_," he didn't look back at her. "I won't offer you my chamber again." There was pain in his tenor. "Your training will begin again in the morning. Della and Daisy will see to your being delivered to the training center." Just before turning to owl, he waved his hand and the bindings fell away from the girl. In the next instant he was winging his way out of the window.

Sarah moved to the widow, gazed out with little relief. Rubbing her wrists she wondered how she was supposed to endure the rest of this life. Sadly she watched the white owl soar into the night sky.

--

Bryn pushed her food around on her plate, not really eating. Devon did much the same thing, and neither of them seemed disposed to speaking. Finally, having had enough of this charade, Devon tossed his napkin on the table, and leaned back in his chair to look at his mortal. "Say something," he demanded.

"Trouble is coming." She sighed placing an elbow on the table, and cradling her chin in her hand.

Devon winced; he didn't question, nor argue. He agreed with the girl, trouble was coming. "If I could pack you up and put you somewhere safe…"

Rising from the table, the young woman moved to stand behind the Fae Lord, she placed her hands on his shoulders. "I would refuse leave," she said softly. Her hands moved slowly down, as she bent closer, placing her face along side his.

"Sweet Bryn," he whispered against her skin.

"We cannot stop the wheels in motion, Devon," she murmured. "But we can safe guard against the bumpy ride ahead."


	39. Chapter 39

**Chapter 39. Lady of the Tower**

Jareth walked slowly toward the throne room, the Goblin Throne room, where he felt he'd be left in peace. He didn't bother with torches, or with lighting a fire to warm the room. The cold felt good, and it kept him mind focused. The last thing he needed or wanted was to be lulled into a warm fuzzy feeling. With the agility that seemed to be inherent in the Fae, he moved to the throne and lounged as he had done so often. There in the darkness he sat, thinking.

Daisy had seen the King move to the throne room long after he'd left the girl in the tower. She frowned and moved down the hall swiftly to enter into the chamber where others were already gathered awaiting her. Lutin bowed to her as she entered; she glared at him, but kept her words to herself. She took her seat beside the master of the guild, Donatien Sade. Lutin closed the door when the last of the King's conspirators had been seated. He nodded to his niece who stood and addressed them.

"I thank you all for coming on such short notice," she began; leaning on the table to emphasize her position as the unspoken leader. "The girl has refused the King's offer of his bedchamber."

Donatien frowned, "She what?"

"Refused the King," the Captain of the King's personal guard repeated slowly.

The Master of the Guild leaned back, "I'll be damned," he muttered. "You were right about her having more spirit and integrity than I had credited her with."

"Spirit and integrity won't be much use to her," Daisy warned. "She began to read the scrolls but was disturbed by something she read. I fear that she and the King are hell-bent on repeating the past."

Joachim, the metal master shook his head. "It is worse than you suspect," he ventured. "The King has asked to see what else was left behind by Zoltarie."

Philo nodded, "He's asked for more of the equipment that has been stored to be taken out of storage. I fear he'll follow the same path as his predecessor."

Della who'd been silent spoke out, "I say let him," she tapped her talons on the smoothly polished surface of the table they were seated at. "He is the King," she reminded all.

"Yes, and we'd like to keep him as the King." Daisy announced as she stepped away from the table and began to pace about it. "Jareth is the best thing that has happened to us, and we owe it to the High King to keep this one alive!"

The King's Leather master spoke up, slightly irritated. "Perhaps if we told him," he offered.

"No," Daisy crossed her arms, "I told you before; he must find the information out for himself. The only thing we can do is direct him to it."

Lutin pointed to the table stacked with the precious scrolls. "What more can I do, hog tie them both and force them to read the scrolls?"

"Uncle, I know you've done the best you can." Daisy held one hand up. "At least he's making efforts to read, but also to renew our kingdoms flagging spirits."

"Therein lays the rub," Donatien's elegant voice rose above the murmurs. "Before, we were of little interest to the rest of the Underground. We were useless in their eyes; however I'm told that we've sparked interest in some."

Pausing, Daisy's hand went instinctually to the hilt of her sword. "Have we," she asked quietly. "I take it you still have," she paused to find the right word; "infiltrators in the other kingdoms?"

The line of his lip curled slightly, but his face showed no other reaction. No one ever knew anything he didn't want them to. "You'd be surprised my dear Daisy Bookworm how many beings I've trained, and how many owe allegiance to our cause." His eyes sparkled with delight, he ignored the stares of the Harpy as he flirted outrageously with the Goblin woman. "But than I'd be only too happy to educate you."

Her brow raised slightly, the Goblin woman sighed. "Were that there was time, rhaakduuaal dhec." She growled the intimate words in their native tongue for beloved friend.

Della narrowed her glare, wondering what was between these two.

Lutin looked to the Captain, his face serious as he spoke. "If she's refused him, yet again…"

"It will be handled," Daisy promised before turning her attentions to the Master of the Guild once more. "I'm told he's asked you to continue her training."

"Indeed," Donatien acquiesced. "You and the winged wonder here are to deliver her to me come the morrow."

"Winged wonder," snarled Della.

"No offence," Donatien shrugged as he looked at her. "There are few enough Goblins with wings, and Harpies make such a lovely sight in our skies."

"Save the flirtatious words for those who need them," she flexed her talon in warning. "What I want to know is how any of this is the concerns of the Harpy flock?"

Before Daisy could address her, Donatien said in a dry tone. "As your flock is now fully intergraded in the kingdom, what happens to our King is a major concern. That is unless the Mother of your Roost has taken it into her head to abandon the rookery and move your flock out of here." The glare he received told him otherwise. "You are now just as much a part of the goblin kingdom here as the fairy and gnome and dwarf races that have migrated to us."

Della stiffened, "I don't see representatives of those races here."

"Nor will you," Daisy said taking charge once more. "We here are the spokesmen for the clans and the guilds and the hierarchy that exists. You are included to ensure the cooperation of the flock, and you are one of the King's guards as was a predecessor of yours to the last great Goblin King." Della settled back. "The King must read the scrolls, as must the girl… dangerous times are ahead." She turned to Lutin. "She read the Fae codicil, the one reading no child born of a slave may rule."

Lutin knew the codicil well, "I fear there are other Fae rulings that she will find upsetting."

Donatien steepled his long elegant fingertips; "Our King's declaration of sovereignty does not sit well with other Fae."

"They are not aware of his lineage," Joachim muttered.

"Nor is he," Daisy warned. "He must read, and find this out for himself."

"And the girl?" Della sneered.

The Master of the Guild snickered, "I will be only too delighted to direct her attention to the scrolls of lineage. She too must know from whence she came."

"Envy is what destroyed us," Daisy stated moving back to her seat. "Our kingdom has much to offer, but we must work against becoming too showy."

The leather master nodded, "The lower races are in accord, the rebuilding is coming along."

Turning to the metal master, Daisy asked quietly; "And the mines?"

"Once more in full production, Captain." He assured her. "That was the easiest matter, what is not seen is not noticed. As most of our mining goes on under the rich mountains and soil, it is easy enough to hide not only the work, but the stockpiles."

Philo passed a list to the woman, "Here is a report on the stores we've cataloged."

Going over the list, the woman smiled. "The King will be pleased."

--

Sarah sat on the ledge of the window, watching the sky turn to a dark color before the stars began to twinkle. The cool evening breeze kissed her skin as it moved over her. The rooms of the castle below her were dark, but she could feel him. She knew he was there, waiting, lurking. Turning back to look at her turret room, she frowned. He'd been right; she'd been getting turned on when he'd bound her to the St. Andrew's cross. And now she was feeling empty. Sarah was not sure what was worse, being bound and tortured or wanting to be bound and tortured in to submission.

She crossed the room to the implement of sexual torture, her hand ran over the cross brace and she shuddered as a deliciously evil thrill coursed through her veins. She had not bothered to light a light, and was now alone in the darkening room. Alone with her desires, her needs, moving closer to the cross she brushed up against it. The sound that escaped her throat was something between a strangled cry and willing mewls; but that was not the sound that drew her attention. It was the soft fluttering of wings that alerted her she was not alone.

Strong hands moved to rest over hers as she held onto the wooden frame. "Are you going to tie me up?" she asked closing her eyes.

"Do I need to?" He replied darkly in her ear, his voice low and dangerous. He moved closer, her backside spooning to him. "Or do I but need to suggest it?"

"It's not fair," she whispered. "You know it's not fair."

"Life is not fair," he stated as his lips moved to her throat. "Don't expect it to be." Fingers dug into her soft hands, curling about and holding tightly. "Your king has need _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_, and only you can meet those needs." His voice rumbled from deep in his throat. Once more she shivered, quaking as his hands made demands of her. "Blast your mortal hide," he spun her to face him; "Would that I had no need of you."

Tilting her chin defiantly the girl's eyes met his with just as much fever as he was feeling; "Would that I never called upon your name."

For a moment he didn't move, it appeared that he was not even breathing. Gone was the longing looks he'd given her, now replaced by fury, rage and vehemence. "I could just walk away," he warned.

"You'd be back," she gloated. "I may not have power over you, fairy boy… but you're body wants what mine has."

"Bitch," he cursed her.

"Pervert," she returned her voice laced with excitement.

One hand moved to her tilted chin, "I think you really like that part of me, don't you vixen?"

"As much as you like my defying you," she quipped saucily.

Mismatched stormy eyes searched her face; in the darkness his owl senses were heightened. "Answer me this, vixen." He murmured in a sinister manner. "Would you want me any other way?"

Sarah paused, his thumb was resting in the hollow of her throat, moving slowly up and down and sending a river of heat through her. "No," she admitted in a voice that was deepened with throaty passion, his thumb made swallowing difficult. "Not that I want you as you are, either."

"Would you like me to leave," he teased pulling back. Sarah's hands shot out, gripping him and pulling him to her. Her mouth savagely ravaged his. In that moment, when she took over, he found himself enjoying the aggressive and intensely passionate manner of his unwilling captive. "Use me, Sarah;" he urged. "Use me."

His words only served to enrage her more, "I hate you." Shoving him aside she moved away from the wooden frame, or tried to.

He pressed her back into the rough surface, his hands capturing and holding her wrists as he allowed his body to block her passage. "And yet I am all there is for you in this life." Suddenly he moved speedily away from her, he was at the window wearing a self satisfying smirk. "Good night, Sarah." He turned and winged his way out of her chamber.

"You bastard!" she screamed as she collapsed on the floor. "Come back," she begged in despair. "Don't leave me like this…"

The owl turned in midair, even before he was finished transforming she had leapt into his arms. The ferociously brutal kiss that was exchanged buckled both man and woman, as they went to their knees. Jareth peppered her face with kisses as he moved his hands over her possessively. Sarah clung to him, feeling the river of passion that was threatening to sweep her away. He yanked her off the floor, carrying her to the bed on the other side of the room. Even before he'd reached the bed he'd used magic to remove the barrier of their garments. Once he reached the bed he was sheathed within her promptly, remaining there for longer than he'd ever remained with a woman before. Once they were both sated, he rolled to his side and held her tightly against him. "I'll never let you go." He vowed.

Sarah listened to the thumping of his heart, nestled within his arms. "Is that a promise or a threat?"

Jareth smiled, "Take it any way you want it."

--

Donatien lingered as the others filed out of the scribe's chambers. He stood behind the chair he'd only moments ago been seated in. The walking stick that he carried was angled, and he waited patiently while Daisy gave instructions to the others. He noted that the Harpy was giving him the evil eye, and he pointedly ignored her. The winged female said something under her breath to the Goblin woman who seemed amused as the Harpy was sent on her way. The only person left in the chamber besides the elegant man was the scribe who took his leave, giving some privacy to the warrior and the Dominate male.

"You want something?" Daisy asked fingering the hilt of her sword.

Slivery gray eyes watched the motion with amusement. "Indeed," he tapped his walking stick lightly on the stone floor. He had known her for a very long time, and still he could never get enough of her. "But that goes without saying does it not?" He placed the walking stick across the table, waiting for her response. A moment later the sword lay beside it. "Daisy Bookworm, do you intend to keep the bargain made betwixt us?"

"I don't welch," she gritted through her teeth.

Donatien drew deep his breath, "I'm so very glad to hear that." One hand reached out to caress the cheek of the Goblin woman. "I feared you had second thoughts."

"Do you?" Her voice was firm, unshaken and slightly amused.

Slivery eyes moved from her head to her toes, "Not a chance," he breathed seductively. "A dangerous mistress is far more to my liking than one who has to be constantly petted and teased into my bed."

"Mistress?" She challenged.

"I mean that word in its original meaning," he assured her as he stepped closer. "The promise of a new age in the Kingdom," he whispered. "And a wife who is my equal."

"Than I take it you are satisfied with the arrangements," her voice teased.

Amused, and exhilarated, he chuckled before gathering her into his arms. "Say it again; say that you will be my wife."

"When this is concluded, I will become your wife." Her voice was firm, her eyes met his. "I wonder if you have any idea of what you've bargained yourself into, Donatien."

"All that matters, my dear woman, is that we are still in agreement." He held her close. "Ours is the joining of two of the oldest Goblin families in the realm." He could feel her resistance. "We are both honorable Goblins, Daisy."

"I must return to the tower," she tried to pry herself free.

"In a moment," he implored tenderly. "I have but these few moments to enjoy being in your company. Tomorrow, I go back to tutoring the girl, and playing the part laid out for me."

His words struck a cord within her. "I suggest besides teaching her to acquiesce to the King, you teach her to defend herself."

Disturbed by the suggestion, he tipped her face upward. "What is it you fear?"

"Betrayal," she admitted honestly.

Softly he laid his lips on her brow, "I will do whatever you think best, my lady." He stepped back, gazing down at her with resolve. "I will also make sure she reads more of the scrolls."

"You would do that for me?" Amazement filled her.

Gallantly, he went to his knees; "For you, for the Kingdom, and for the King." He vowed.

Gathering his face into her hands, Daisy leaned toward him to brush her lips to his. "My family has chosen well, and I am blessed to be your bride."

Rising once more he took her hand into his, raised it and kissed it. "I am the one who is blessed."


	40. Chapter 40

**Chapter 40. Kingdom come**

Jareth lay blissfully peaceful, asleep in the arms of the woman he'd taunted. For Sarah sleep didn't come easily or peacefully. Something kept nagging at her, something filled her with more dread than even the Goblin King who had taken her dreams and now directed her life. Her eyes studied the face of the man beside her in the bed, had she made a mistake? Should she have accepted his offer to move into his chambers? No, she told her self, no she'd been right to refuse, and yet she found herself longing to hear him make the offer once more.

Heavy lids, lined with a double row of long dark lashes fluttered open over stormy eyes. "What is it?" he asked as he awoke.

"Dangerous question," she whispered.

His hand went to her throat, "We live dangerously, you and I, Sarah." In the darkness he reveled as his touch drove her back into a tempestuous windswept state of ardor. "I shall spend the night," he teased, "showing you just how dangerously we live."

"Are you not worried that the guards will return?" she asked, looking toward the window entry of the tower.

"Daisy will not disturb us," he promised moving to take her once more. "As for Della, she'd most likely offer to join us."

Sarah froze, "You wouldn't, would you?"

Playful at first, he sobered quite quickly. "No, Sarah, I wouldn't." His eyes devoured her, "You are solely for my pleasure."

"Solely?" her eyes looked away, upset by his words.

Gently his hand drew her to look deeply into his eyes; "Solely for me, Sarah." His body seemed to be wrapped about her and within her all at the same time. "You are just for me."

--

Daisy found Della sulking at the base of the tower; she looked up at the enchanted structure and smiled to herself. "You may go to your nesting area," she addressed the Harpy. "I doubt we will be needed anymore this evening. I shall stay here and keep watch."

"Don't you think a second guard is needed?" Della asked grimly.

"The tower is enchanted; no one can enter, nor leave. I think they are safe enough tonight." Daisy said taking a seat on the wall.

Della hesitated, "Would you like another guard sent in my place?"

"No," Daisy leaned back, looking up at the stars over the Goblin landscape. "Why do you ask?"

Della took a seat as well on the wall, her wings dipping over the back gracefully. "No reason," she murmured before turning to the Captain of the King's guard. "Runt, everything between us is… okay?"

"Fine," the captain yawned. "Now be a good birdie and go feather your nest." She waved the Harpy off. Sneering, then smiling Della spread her wings impressively and took to the skies. Daisy watched her quietly knowing her partner was nearing the time when she'd be taking a mate. When the Harpy vanished out of sight Daisy looked up at the tower. No one could bring harm to the King or to his _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_, not as long as they were ensconced in the tower. The enchanted wards would protect both, as far as Daisy understood them. Standing guard over the tower would be an easy enough task. The stars in the Goblin sky gave Daisy an unusual sense of comfort. This was her world, her kingdom and her heart soared looking at the night skies. Her resolve was renewed; no one would take this king from them, not on her watch!

--

Jareth awoke as the sun rose over the horizon, sitting up he stretched before looking down at the woman who lay sleeping still. Her face was different from when he'd first seen her, but in sleep she still retained some of the innocence that had attacked him in the first place. Even in dreamless sleep she was enticing, her scent filled the tower room, and he was enchanted by her beauty. Leaning over her, he gazed at the captive with pride. She was his, not willingly, but his none the less. He wondered quietly if his romp with her had caused any changes in the orb that stood on the nightstand beside his bed. He looked forward to what new discoveries it would bring him. His hand moved softly over the bare skin of her forearm, skimming the surface. Her skin was soft, like the velvety petals of a rose.

The prideful smirk changed as his eyes hardened and the memory of what she'd allowed to befall him rushed forwards. It hardened his heart, and gave him more turmoil in his soul than he'd want known. It mattered not that he was still attracted to her, that he was a moth to her flame. It mattered not that his entire being cried out for her, that she was still the only woman he'd ever considered an equal. All that mattered was the fact that she'd waged war, and lost. He tossed back the light cover from his body and rose, not caring if he disturbed her sleep. He stormed over to the window, intent on transforming to owl and getting the hell out of there, however as he neared the window something halted his steps. Sarah moaned softly as if in pain, before he could stop himself he was back at her side.

'Love me and I will be your slave,' he had told her in a last ditch effort to impede her. He had never been sure until this very moment whether or not he'd really meant the words or if they were yet another ploy. At this moment, with her looking so pained, so vulnerable, he was sure. He had meant the words. He found himself defenseless against the one thing he had never counted on. He loved Sarah Williams. The girl stirred, opened her green eyes and looked at the man who was hovering over her. "Its sunrise," he said working at keeping control of the voice he used. "You must prepare for your lessons; I will take my leave of you now."

Sarah would have liked to have pulled the coverlet closer, but modesty would have been lost on the King. "Of course," she said quietly.

Jareth didn't move; he stayed at the side of the bed for a moment longer. His eyes searching hers and finding nothing to hold onto; "Sarah," he whispered in a rasp that startled both the man speaking and the woman in the bed. He pulled away, not looking back he transformed and exited by the window.

--

Daisy was alerted by the sounds of wings too small to be those belonging to the Harpy. She looked up to see the King's owl form fleeing flight from the tower. He didn't wing toward the chamber his belongings were housed in. Silently she prayed to every God she knew and every Goddess as well, that the King would be drawn to the scrolls. Giving a sharp whistle, she signaled her griffin. She was not about to wait for Della, not when there was a chance at being alone with Sarah and giving her subtle hints of where to look for answers and whom to ask.

--

After a flight over the Kingdom to clear his mind of the thoughts that seemed to take up most of his time, the King returned to his palace. From high above he could see how things had improved in the few years he'd been taking more care of his kingdom. Bridges were rebuilt, roads cleared, and even the fields looked more kept. The one good upshot of having been shot down by Sarah was that now his Kingdom was receiving his attention.

He transformed to man form fully dressed so as not to scandalize his subjects. It was now well after sunrise and the market place began to fill with the shop keepers and stalls and carts were being set up. He strolled through the market being greeted warmly by Goblins and other races that now made the Kingdom home. He paused as was now his custom to listen to some of the shopkeepers concerns. He found them a source of information few others would think to give him. He received samples of the wears being sold that morning, thanking his subjects as they presented him with what they felt were the best they had.

One person entering the market that morning did his best to avoid the presences of the King. Hoggle didn't wish to have a confrontation that morning; he was not sure why only that he didn't want it. He cowered behind the wall of one building, waiting for the King to move on.

Feral senses gave the King an alertness most others were void of. He turned his head, only slightly, and the scent in the air told him that the gnomish little dwarf was near. "Good morning, Higgle," he called out puckishly.

Grumbling under his breath, the dwarf revealed himself. "Your majesty;" He bowed a little too deeply and nearly toppled over.

Amused and annoyed, Jareth gave the dwarf a gaze meant to wilt the coward. "Why are you not at the gate?"

"This is my market day," he answered in the tone that was defensive and somewhat disrespectful.

The King fought down the urge to stomp on the little worm of a man. "Hoggle, I have some work for you at the castle, I will send a replacement to your gate this morning. Come with me."

Hoggle frowned; he knew there would be no chance to do his marketing. He followed the King, a few steps behind, annoyed and aggravated that the monarch didn't seem to be in any hurry. He could hear his stomach rumbling, complaining at being empty.

Jareth heard the grumbling noise, smirked and tossed the dwarf a peach from his morning's tributes. The dwarf looked at it suspiciously, not sure of why, and wanted to loudly refuse the offer. Instead he choked back his self-respect and bit into the juicy flesh, cautiously. He awaited some terrible misfortune to befall him, when it didn't he took a second bite. It was not hard to swallow the fact that the fruit's flavor outweighed his suspicion of the King.

Jareth handed his booty to the first maid who came to the door as the King entered the palace. He told the young elfish woman to have food and drink sent to his offices, and then motioned the dwarf to follow him. Once they reached the private suite of offices that the King now kept, Hoggle gave him a skeptical and doubtful gaze. Jareth sighed, but held his temper. "Do wipe that look off your face," he muttered as he moved to the heavy desk and it's equally heavy chair. "I've a great deal of work to discuss with you."

Hoggle moved toward the desk and saw the surface was littered with pages of what looked like forgotten sketches for new gardens and improvements to the palace grounds. "What's this?" He asked reaching for one of the pages.

"Have you ever heard of a King by the name of Zoltarie," leaning back with his head against the back the seat, Jareth watched the dwarf.

"Don't ring no bells, no," the little man was now fascinated by the drawings. "Who was he?"

"The last of the true Goblin Kings," Jareth whispered. "These were some of the last plans he made for improvements here."

Moving closer, Hoggle felt his mouth drop open. "A Goblin did these?"

"Not just any Goblin," corrected the King softly. "He was a Royal."

Noting the sadness in the King's voice, Hoggle became somber. "What happened to him?"

Jareth looked at the dwarf, pain, fury, and something else registered in the stormy eyes. "He was betrayed."

Not sure why, the dwarf began to quake, and he didn't want to meet with the eyes now centered on him. "What do you want of me, your majesty?"

Placing both elbows on the surface of the desk, the young King looked at the sketches. "I want you to help me bring his dream to life."

--

Sarah looked at the sun climbing in the sky, she turned to Daisy. "Where could the Harpy be," she fretted. "She's going to make me late… you know how Master Sade hates to be kept waiting."

Daisy gave a sharp whistle, "I know," she motioned the griffin to hover near the window and mounted it. She held a hand out to the girl. "I'll deliver you to Sade, and then form a search party for the Harpy. There has to be a problem for her to be so late."

"I hope she's alright," Sarah whispered before adding. "I'll deny it if you tell her I was concerned."

Daisy snickered, but didn't comment.

--

Master Sade was just arriving at the place door when he happened to look up and see Daisy with Sarah on the back of a griffin. He smiled, knowing the Captain of the guard would deliver the student to the training rooms. Upon entering the training room he found the mortal waiting for him alone. "Was your guard not with you?"

"My Harpy is missing," Sarah said from her perch at the windowsill.

The man joined her at the window. "That's damned odd," he agreed.

"Master," Sarah whispered. "Something is wrong… something is very wrong."

--

Della reached on talon out of the bars of the cage she'd been thrust into before she'd awakened from the clubbing. She spat out a string of curses at the man who was standing in the light just beyond her reach, Talagon. He stood beyond her reach, a goblet of wine in his hands and a self satisfied grin on his smug face. Circe stood out of the eyesight of the winged female, she watched as her father began to taunt the creature who had not been given the opportunity to feast.

--

Daisy returned to the palace a few hours later, and reported directly to the King. "Sire, we've a problem."

Jareth looked up from the pages he was going over with Hoggle. "What problem?"

"Someone's kidnapped one of our Harpies."

For the next hour Daisy informed the King of what she knew. When the last she saw the Harpy, and where her investigations had lead. Jareth sat impassively, listening and putting the pieces of the puzzle together. He tapped his chin with long fingers. "Keep the search going, let the outside world see us seeking information on the whereabouts of our Harpy."

"You know who has her," Daisy gasped, surprised he had figured out what she didn't want to suggest.

"I'm sure you've a good idea of who would gain by taking one of my Harpies," Jareth said calmly. "But let's not tip our hand… they see me as a blundering foolish child… let them go on seeing what they want."

For the first time in her life Daisy questioned the King. "And Della?"

"Will be safe enough for now," Jareth assured the Captain with and understanding smile. "As long as they think she's of use to them."

"I feed his bones to the vultures myself for this," the exclamation from the Goblin woman came.

"You'll have to stand in line." Jareth said with quiet calm, he looked at Hoggle. "Start the renovations."

The Goblin dwarf's eyes were angry, but he put it aside. "As you wish, Sire."

Daisy waited until the little man had vacated the room, then she cleared her throat. "Sire?"

Jareth looked up from the sketches he and Hoggle had approved. "Yes, Captain?"

"There's something you should know," she moved forward knowing the walls of this palace had ears. "She's coming into season."

"Not for a few more months," Jareth assured the Goblin woman. "I have it on very good authority." He held up one hand. "Daisy, you'd best pick a replacement for the time being. Pick someone you trust."

"Does it need to be another Harpy?"

Jareth considered her words, and answered carefully. "No."

"Then if your Majesty does not mind, I'll reserve the right to pick another race to fill in… I will have no other partner in my duties but the Harpy Della." She looked at the sketches on the desk. "Those are the gardens of Zoltarie," she said confidently. "Are you completing his plans?"

"In every way that I can," Jareth sighed.

A wide grin spread on the face of the Goblin warrior. "Your Majesty has been reading the scrolls!"

"I'm not the fool everyone thinks I am, Captain Bookworm;" Teased the King.

"You're a sly dog, that's what you are," Daisy stated fingering the hilt of her sword for comfort. "How long were you going to go on letting me worry?"

"I'm not finished reading the scrolls just yet, Captain;" Advised the man with mismatched eyes. "But I am beginning to understand."

Daisy bowed to her king and sovereign. "I would suggest you spend some time with the lineage scrolls, sire. They are most fascinating reading."


	41. Chapter 41

**Chapter 41. Killing two birds with one stone**

Sir Didymus frowned as he paced the fine hair on the back of his neck rose, alerting him to what his nose could not. He was being watched. Gritting his teeth, he could feel the snarl gathering in the back of his throat. He stood at the ready, if the attack came, he was ready.

--

Master Sade watched as Sarah was carried away to her tower by the Goblin Daisy on the little griffin she rode with pride. He was pleased at the progress that Sarah was making, even as she worried over the missing Harpy. He knew it would not take long to train the girl to learn the things that the King felt she needed to know.

--

Jareth leaned on the frame of the window, the sky was darkening and the Harpy was missing now for a full day. He prayed that Talagon had the sense to feed the creature; a dead Harpy was of no use to either of them. Mother Iris had come to the Goblin Palace, and she looked out the window toward the boarder. "If he survives, he is ours." She murmured darkly.

"Della may have something to say to that, Iris." Jareth sighed. "She's going to want the first strike and it is her right."

"You'll not interfere?" the Matron asked.

"No," he replied just as darkly turning from the window. "I'll not interfere."

--

Sarah paced the tower, disturbed by some inner sense calling out to her. The abduction of the Harpy was not a slight; it was an all out declaration of war. She understood decorations of war, far better than most cared to know. Hostage taking was not a spar of the moment decision, and taking a Harpy hostage must have been very well planned out.

Daisy had gone in search of sustenance for them, when she returned she found Sarah as she'd left her, pacing. "You're wearing a path in the stones," she warned as she spread the food on the table.

Sarah stopped pacing and looked at the table. "Della has not fed," she said with certainty.

The Goblin Guard looked over at the woman. "I beg your pardon?"

"Della has not fed," Sarah repeated.

Goblin eyes widened, "How do you know?" her voice was questioning in a calm but low tone.

"I don't know," Sarah stated placing a hand to her midsection. "Call it a gut feeling."

The Captain of the guard cocked her head to one side. "You can feel her?"

"Something like that yes." Sarah nodded as she focused her thoughts on the Harpy. "I know she's not fed…." The woman looked at her guard. "Daisy, after we've eaten, I think I'd better go to the library."

Daisy nodded, "As you wish, My Lady."

"This is all wrong…" Sarah said taking a seat. "Taking a Harpy is… stupid…" She looked down at the food on the table, as if it were completely foreign to her.

"Not when the Harpy is one of the guards of the _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_," Daisy countered with carefully chosen words.

Sarah looked up from her gazing at the food. "Daisy," she blinked rapidly and gripped the table. "Did you just say that in Goblin?" The guard nodded, and Sarah reached into the opening of her shift. The Babel was not at hand there. Sarah swallowed and asked softly, "Am I speaking in English or in Goblin?"

"Both," answered the guard lifting her goblet to her lips. "To your health _**Tagaan**_."

Hands shaking, Sarah lifted the goblet before her to her lips. The contents of the cup tasted odd, and she looked over at the guard. "What's happening?"

"Conversion," Daisy stated as if she were speaking of an everyday occurrence. "You're body, mind and soul are transforming… accepting your new status… You are becoming Goblin."

"How?" the girl lowered her goblet to the table, fearful the contents would spill if she kept it in her hand. "How is this possible?" She lifted her hand to her face, relaxing when she found her features had not altered.

"You are not being turned," Daisy said eating easily. "You are becoming… there is a difference."

"Daisy," Sarah looked at her in confusion. "How is this possible?"

Urging the less and less mortal girl to eat, the guard smiled. "Because Sarah Williams… you are the _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_," the Goblin woman sipped from her cup again. "Soon, the transformation will be complete…and there will be no going back for you any more than there is for the King."

Sarah sipped from the goblet once more. "Does this happen to everyone… to all mortals who stay here?"

"No," Daisy informed the girl. "This happens only to they who open their heart to the Labyrinth…. To those she accepts." The guard urged the girl to eat. "Eat Sarah_** Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_," she said compellingly. "You will need your strength for what awaits you in the halls of the Scribe."

Green eyes filled with worry.

--

Sir Didymus could feel the unseen interloper, he could smell it also. It was not Goblin, nor was it Fae. It was something foreign, something alien to the Kingdom. Something forbidden. His lips curled as he felt the growl grow in his throat; still he kept it from escaping. Someone had gone to a great deal of trouble to march into Goblin lands, raiding was not a willy-nilly thing. It took planning, it took strategy, it took… careful preparation and that meant they would be dealing with someone with intellect. Every fiber of the little knight went on alert.

--

Daisy delivered the _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_ to the Scribe's rooms. She stood back as Lutin moved to place the scroll on the table for the _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_, "I believe this is worth your attention," he said softly.

Sarah looked at their faces, the Goblin woman Captain of the guards and the Goblin Scribe and she suddenly saw so much more than she'd expected to. "You're related," she gasped.

Lutin gave her a wistful smile, "Of course we are_** Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_," he bowed to her before exiting the reading room.

Daisy nodded, "Yes."

Looking down at the scrolls Sarah whispered. "Don't I need the Babel to read these?"

"Not any longer," Daisy's voice was kind, gentle and serene. "You are one of us now; you can read, write and most importantly think in Goblin." She picked up the scroll that was lying atop the others. "My Lady, you'd best read."

Sarah sunk into the chair, hands trembling as she accepted the scroll from the Goblin Captain. She looked at the words, words that just a few months ago would have been foreign to her. Words she should not have understood now jumped off the page and shouted to her. She looked at the words and the lineage of the last great King. One name on the list stood out, the name _**Jareth Tuatha Dé Danann**_. Upon reading that name, Sarah whispered. "Goblin King…."

Daisy picked up another scroll and handed it urgently to the girl who was looking like she was about to have sensory overload. "You'd better read this as well."

Sarah heard the clicks and sounds only a Goblin could make when speaking in their native tongue. "I don't want to," she whispered in what she'd prayed was English. Her ears heard the clicks, the inhuman tones and the nuances that were Goblin alone.

"There is no going back," Daisy confirmed Sarah's worst fears. "Read, learn, prepare."

A shaky hand reached for the offered scroll, and Sarah began to read the linage of the first and only other _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_. The list was long, starting just prior to the woman. It started with a name that Sarah knew well, a name that brought pride to all Celts, Boadicea the Warrior Queen. The name of the Queen was followed by the daughters who had been defiled by the Romans. Under those names were also the names of a son and daughter who had been fostered and spared the humiliations at Roman hands. Sarah stared at the name that had once been given to the one who was referred to here as only_** Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_. She looked up at Daisy and whispered in a voice that sounded like a throaty strangle. "_**Sorcha**_."

"Read on," urged the Goblin woman. "Read on…"

Sarah lowered the scroll, "I don't need to," she stood up and closed her eyes. "I know the rest." She opened her eyes. "I'm descended from the son of Boadicea, whose sister shielded him… so that he would not be taken by the invaders… I'm named for her… Sorcha is the Celtic equivalent of Sarah…."

--

Della watched the Fae man who delighted in tormenting her. She wondered if the fool knew what he'd done; by the scent of his pheromones she doubted it. Talagon laughed as he passed the cage. "Fool Fairy," she sniped.

Circe, standing off to where she was out of the sight of the Harpy found herself agreeing. Soon enough she'd find a way to rid herself of the boat anchor that her father had become. Perhaps the Harpy could be pressed into service and help her rid herself of this foolish man. For too long he had stood in her way, and now she saw a chance to end his interferences.

Della turned her back on the Fae male, took a light sniff of the air and knew they were being observed by a crafty and cunning female of that breed. The scent was one Della had experienced before, and she knew it was Talagon's most deceptive and dangerous daughter. The Harpy knew the Fae was not aware of her perceptiveness, and for the moment it was best to keep them unaware. She turned and glared at Talagon, "I'm going to gut you three ways to Sabbath," she warned. "I will delight in digesting your entrails."

Talagon huffed, "You'll do as you'll be trained to do."

--

Sarah had abandoned the table and the scrolls and now stood silently looking out the window. "Does…Jareth… know?" She questioned at long last.

"Some," Daisy stated coyly. "We are not sure of what exactly he's learned. He's not exactly forth coming with that information."

Sarah looked over her shoulder. "Those who don't learn from history…" she mused.

The Goblin woman joined her at the window. "You don't have to be doomed to repeat it, _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_. You and he can forge ahead…"

The woman who was once mortal looked once more out into the wilderness beyond the castle walls. Wars had been fought and lost within the boundaries of the Labyrinth. Yet, as savage as the living creature that comprised the lands of the Goblins could be, Sarah found herself compelled to also see the beauty. "I am the _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_." Her voice was no longer shaking with fury; it was stronger than it had ever been. She looked at Daisy, and sighed. "_**Drarec Rhuuluur**_," she addressed Daisy by the Goblin form of her given name. _**"A akaagac."**_

The captain of the guard moved forward, holding out a hand to the girl. "You need have no fear, now."

Sarah took hold of the hand, no pain accompanied the touch. "How is it possible?"

"It is the will of the Labyrinth," Daisy stated. "She is a jealous mistress… but a loving one. You are now her child… just as the King is." The woman stated with pride. "You are Goblin now, and therefore the laws of the Fae no longer bind you, just as the spells of a Fae could not bind you."

"Mortals bound to the Labyrinth are not subject to Fae Laws," mused Sarah thinking of how she'd been able to hold the child Jareth had returned with.

"You were never just an ordinary mortal girl," Daisy mused in sympathy. "Even before the King made you his _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_."

"And what are you, _**Drarec Rhuuluur**_," Sarah asked the other.

"I am a proud and humble Goblin," the woman answered. "I have the honor of protecting that which is most important to my King… the woman who is his equal."

"A slave is the equal of the King?"

"An ordinary slave would never be the equal of this King," assured the Goblin woman with a wicked grin. "You however are no ordinary girl."

Looking back out the window, Sarah saw movement and knew the Labyrinth was alive and thriving. "No," she agreed readily. "I'm no ordinary girl… I'm the girl who won back a wished away child… at the cost of her dreams."

"Did the loss cost you your vision?" Countered the Goblin.

Sarah, rendered speechless stared out the window. Vision?

--

Jareth stood on the windswept hillside, looking at his lands. His eyes were drawn to his castle, and he knew the woman was watching the Labyrinth as closely as he had been watching. His heart pounded, recalling the words that had caused her to reject his latest offer. Crossing his arms he wondered how to end this dilemma. He wondered where to seek counsel from. He could not take this problem to the High King, not without making himself subject to his father's will. He doubted anyone living could give him an answer. He began to walk, not down, not toward the gates of his beloved Labyrinth. He walked past the dead tree where once an antique clock had hung to give hours to the girl who had run his Labyrinth. He walked to the place where the long dead of the kingdom had been laid to rest.

Something in one of the crypts seemed to shimmer. Jareth had never seen anything quite like this, and wondered what it could possibly be. He moved toward the strange little building that was in the center of the burial ground. It was different from all the others in this graveyard; it was dark, foreboding and dangerous. The markings on the stone were old, and read the name of one with whom the Goblin King was most familiar. He looked into the open archway, the sepulcher in which the body of what had been the last Great Goblin King seemed to glow with an eerie irradiance and beckoned him to enter. Forgetting the world, and the woes, he ducked his head and moved through the arched entry. "Zoltarie," he evoked the name of his predecessor.

The sarcophagus was made of solid amber that was now glowing and humming with energy. Unable to prevent or obstruct himself, Jareth reached out and touched the caved face that was glowing. It was a likeness he was well acquainted with, for it was his own image. "Zoltarie?"

The room filled with light as the essence of the once great King appeared before the new King. "You were expecting someone else?" The life force of the King looked like a mirror image of the younger king, save for his age and his ectoplasm manifestation. "Who are you that you call upon me?"

"_**Jareth Tuatha Dé Danann Huukec Mec, Warrior King,**_" he answered carefully.

The long dead Goblin moved closer than smiled. "You must be of my line; you look like me _**Jareth Tuatha Dé Danann Huukec Mec, Warrior King**_." Seeing the trouble in the mismatched and stormy eyes, Zoltarie mused. "You look like a man with a woman problem."

Jareth moved back to lean on a wall, "More a Fae laws problem," he confessed.

"Fae laws," scoffed the long gone Goblin.

"This is a serious problem," Jareth interrupted before the other could get started on a tirade. "The enactment of a law that will prevent me from…" He paused, not sure why he was spilling his spleen to this spirit.

"What title do you hold," challenged the spirit.

"Goblin King," Jareth said with uncertainty.

The mismatched eyes of the apparition mocked the young man. "Are you sure?"

Thinking on his answer, Jareth nodded. "Yes."

"Then behave as if you are The Goblin King…. What do you care about Fae Laws? Are you a Fae or a Goblin male? You have to choose to whom your allegiances belong." Cautioned the specter of the last great Goblin monarch; "If you are Goblin, and if you are their King, then you are the law…" Zoltarie gave his younger progeny a bold smile. "Be that which you are at heart boy."

Jareth smiled back, wickedly. "Tell me old man… just what did you plan to do with your _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_?"

The phantom of the King of the Goblins wore a wicked smile, "I planned on breeding her," he winked. "And I would have too."

"I have a _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_." Jareth stated.

"Does she have a name?" inquired the wise spirit.

"Sarah," Jareth said sounding as if he were caressing the name.

"Sorcha," Zoltarie's tone mimicked the younger King's.

"And the Fae law that holds that no child born of a slave can rule?" Challenged Jareth.

"Fae Law," mocked the apparition; "What care we, we Goblins for the stupid misunderstandings of beings who do not understand our language?" The hand of the ghostly King reached out to touch the face of his descendant. "_**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_," he explained gently. "Does not mean merely a slave whose body gives us pleasure… it means something far deeper. It means someone who is bonded to us in the deepest manner. It means she who shares our soul."

Jareth blinked. "I can breed her…"

"Of course you can," Zoltarie nodded. "That is unless you allow yourself to be fooled as I was."

"I can breed her," growled the delighted Goblin King thinking of dozens of ways to impregnate the girl.

Zoltarie gave his childe a knowing smirk. "Do so, you are after all…_** Huukec Mec**_," the words were spoken in perfect Hobgoblin, with the accents and pride. "Take care, trust no one, not even her."

"Dac o, Dhakhaar." Jareth shrugged off the sulkiness that had plagued him. "I will not forget this."

"My son," the specter began to ebb. "Never be ashamed to be called… Goblin…."

--

The moment he stepped out of the tomb _**Jareth Tuatha Dé Danann Huukec Mec, Warrior King**_ faced his greatest challenge. Keeping his true identity under wraps until he was ready to spring his traps on all who had plotted against him. The most essential and crucial of which would be the trap he planned to set for his beautiful and crafty _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_, the witch who held his heart just as surely as he held her dreams. A haughty smile from the past he painted on his lips as he headed back to the windswept hillside. Once there he looked toward his castle, "If I must choose a side, then it will always be that of Goblin," he promised the land that he knew was listening. "I am _**Jareth Tuatha Dé Danann Huukec Mec,**_" he growled in the back of his throat. "And I belong to the Labyrinth."


	42. Chapter 42

**Chapter 42. Stacking the deck**

Jareth moved into position behind his desk and rang for Philo, "Call the Lord Baron, I have need of him. I want you to also send for Master Sade." Philo wore a confused expression but did as he was bid. Jareth leaned back thinking of how best to set his trap, and knew that he'd have to keep his plans to himself. It was not that he didn't trust Devon, but he could not trust anyone at this point. He looked out the window dreamily, and that was how Devon found him.

"You sent for me?" Devon asked quietly. "Is there word about Della?"

Jareth pointedly ignored the question about the Harpy, "I intend to hold a reception here in three days time," Jareth stated boldly; "For the High King and Queen." Devon nodded neither approving nor disapproving; it was then that Jareth dropped his bomb. "I want the Winderspires to be at the top of my honored guest list."

Stopped in his tracks Devon looked at his cousin as if he'd lost his mind. "Are you feeling… alright?"

"Never better," Jareth could say honestly. "Why do you ask?"

"A reception for the High King and Queen with the Winderspires as honored guests could… initiate humors… some that could establish a preference for the young lady of that family;" warned the perplexed Baron.

"I doubt it," Jareth said adding fuel to the fires, "I want Talagon and his daughter on that list as well."

Devon grimaced. "What are you up to?" He asked taking a seat opposite the man who ruled.

"Nothing," Jareth said unconvincingly."Nothing you need trouble yourself about."

Raking his hand through his hair, Devon shrugged. "Alright, you want to give the High Royal couple a reception, that's fine… but Jareth everyone is going to be…suspicious of this guest list. Whom else do you envision inviting?"

Jareth passed the list he'd jotted down to his cousin; "Just a few of my closest foes." He watched gleefully as his cousin skimmed the list.

Donatien Sade strode into the room as if he too were a Sovereign, "You sent for me Sire?" His features were disciplined, and slightly haughty.

Mismatched eyes turned with approval to the man dressed in long flowing ominous robes. "Master Sade, I thank you for joining us." He motioned the elegant Hobgoblin into the room. Once Donatien took his seat, Jareth addressed him while Devon listened on pensively. "I should like for your guild to arrange some entertainment for a reception I intend to hold for the High King and Queen."

One elegant brow snaked upward, but the Guild Master's eyes sparkled with wicked delights. "I see," he said smoothly. "Any particular type of… diversion you desire, Sire?"

"Very," Jareth retorted with a snort. "I want something that will rock them to their core… Something so completely foreign to Fae society that it entices and beguiles them; I want them to experience something they never dared dream of…. Do you believe you can accomplish this request?"

Tapping his walking stick on the ground the Master smiled slyly; "Without breaking a sweat." He assured his king. "I've a few amusements your guests may find…applealing."

Devon broke in to voice dissention. "Jareth, there are things you simply cannot do…."

Master Sade gave the Baron a piteous and pious glance. "There you are mistaken my Lord Baron. There is nothing the Goblin King cannot do on Goblin soil." He looked at the King, ignoring the Baron altogether. "How many guests do you intend to have at this… fete?"

"It will be a small reception, only one hundred and fifty." Jareth stated with a bored tone.

"I believe I can come up with some very entertaining diversions, my King." Master Sade stated quietly. "Without a doubt it will at least cause conversation."

Once more Devon tired to interject his opinion. "Cousin, this is madness! You cannot subject the Fae to the… diversions of his Guild… It would be indecent."

"Perfect," purred the King with a depraved expression on his handsome features.

Devon was taken aback, "Jareth… what are you thinking?" He pleaded with the King to be reasonable. "It will scandalize the _**court**_…."

"Not my _**court**_," Jareth purred as he turned to Donatien, "You have three days…"He handed the man a list of suggestions for Sarah's benefit. "This is what I wish of the _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_," Jareth sighed. "See to it."

"Not your court?" Devon blinked for a moment, not understanding the statement.

Master Sade gave the King a simpering smile. "I shall set to getting the entertainment for you, Sire. Your _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_ shall be as you desire, and ready for presentation." He looked over at the horrified and astonished Baron and felt pity for him. "My Lord Baron," he bowed gracefully toward him before he took his leave of the King's office.

Devon stammered not able to make sense of what Jareth was up to. "Not your court… my Goddess, it's your father's court!"

Hardness formed what had been the line of the king's jaw. "Devon to whom do you pledge your allegiances?"

"I don't understand," Devon paused, and looked at the Goblin King.

Jareth stood up, came around the front of the desk and faced the man who had been his constant companion. "Are you a Fae Lord, or a Goblin Baron?" His face held no mercy, not even for his cousin at the moment.

Having always perceived himself as both, Devon saw that Jareth meant for him to choose a side. He was tormented by the choice he was being forced into making. On one hand he had always seen himself as a Fae, a privileged Fae; son of a Royal. Yet for years he'd kept a home in the lands of his cousin. For a few years he'd served in the Goblin Court as his cousin's closest confidant. He weighed the two before choosing. "I am the Lord Baron of the Goblin Court…. I am a citizen of the Labyrinth…." His tone was formal and official as he spoke with reserve.

Haughtily the King looked at his cousin. "I'm very glad to hear it."

Devon understood in that moment that whatever cards the King was playing he was keeping them very close to his vest. Whatever plan the King had in mind he was in no rush to share details. Devon nodded, "I will do whatever my King requests of me."

A gloved hand rested on the shoulder of the Baron. "I was sure you would." Jareth said with conviction.

Devon whispered, "Sire, what of the missing Harpy?"

"Trust me," was all that Jareth would give the other.

Devon frowned; he wanted to trust the Goblin King. He wanted everything to return to how it had been. He found he was worried about Della, no he was worried for her, fearful of what harm may befall her. "Jareth, she comes into season soon…."

"I know," the handsome King assured him.

"Every Harpy is precious…" the Baron reminded him. "Is that not what you told me?"

"I know," Jareth repeated. He removed his hand from his cousin's shoulder, "Now, let us plan this party… I think a nice engraved invitation on the finest velum. Gold lettering…" He nodded as he ran for Philo.

--

Donatien found Daisy standing at the entrance of the west wing rooms. He looked beyond her into the space where Sarah was pacing like a caged tiger oblivious to being observed by the pair in the corridor. "She read the scrolls," he stated with reserve, a slight growl formed in his throat.

"Yes," Daisy replied softly. "She now broods over what she's learned..." The Goblin looked up at her counterpart. "I don't think it's registered, not completely."

"Things are about to become even more precarious," Donatien confessed to his soon to be wife. "Our king has requested that I provide entertainment for guests at a reception in three days time." His voice was quiet, elegant and like being wrapped in satin. "Our King is about to declare a quiet war, my love." Yet even with the elegant lilt of his tone, his words were like the kiss of a whip.

"He issued the first shots of this little war when he declared our sovereignty." Daisy corrected the man who was watching the woman walking in the chamber. "His next volley was when he displayed her before the court at Solstice."

"She is the jewel of his crown," Donatien mused; "Even if she is not aware of it." He placed strong fingers under the elbow of the Captain of the Guard. "Pity she has no love for the King…"

"He and she are each other's thrones." Daisy sighed as she looked up at her soon to be husband. "They are more Goblin now than anything else… but the old ways and habits die hard. I doubt they will ever be… as they might have once been." She pitied the girl pacing. "He does not exactly love her either, now does he? They have no choice; they are what they are…"

"Fated," mused the Master. "What I'm about to do will not make her happy, and I fear there is no way around it. The King has a plan and I have already given him my consent. As guild master I will prepare her for his…fete."

"Della remains a captive… no ransom… no…" She forced herself to focus. "The King's jewel will be on display… Just as Zoltarie displayed Sorcha."

"Talagon is counting on us having a weak memory," Donatien mused darkly. "He thinks that all goblins are as gullible as the common house goblins are playful."

"Talagon is not the only danger to our King and the Kingdom… I believe his daughter if far and away the greater threat." Daisy fingered the hilt of her sword, as she did whenever she felt a threat to her people.

"Females of the species are more dangerous than the male," Donatien agreed in a low growl. "Look at us my dear Daisy… you are the one who wields a sword, not I."

A wickedly knowing smile crossed Daisy's lips looking at the Master of the Guild she purred suggestively. "I hear you've a sword sheathed, my lord…" Her suggestive words were chosen carefully and she enjoyed the reaction from the handsome Hobgoblin at her side.

Sade licked his lips with the tip of his tongue, "I intend to introduce you to my… blade, as it will not be sheathed properly until it's in the scabbard you possess." Donatien teased gently. He took a deep breath and composed himself before he entered the room. "_**Tagaan**_," he bowed toward her in courtly grace. "I fear our time is short…I've a new assignment from the King… however, I do commend you for your attentiveness to your courses."

"Master," Sarah moved toward him with the hope that he brought her news.

The Guild master motioned for the young woman to be seated on a cushion at his feet. "_**Tagaan**_," he addressed her with a stoic face. "Our king is going to hold a reception for the High King and Queen in three days time." He saw the shadow of worry on the girls face. "I am to provide entertainment from my guild."

Sarah gasped, "He's lost his mind."

"Hardly," corrected the Master harshly as he tapped his walking stick to get her full attention once more. "And it would be best for you to remember your place."

Sarah was taken aback; it had been a while since the Master had spoken to her with such harshness. "Pardon me, Master…" she said contritely. "I forget sometimes…"

Donatien Sade looked down his nose at the once mortal young woman. "What is your place?" he demanded coldly. "Or have you forgotten that as well?"

"I am_** Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_," Sarah said schooling her features into the same stoic expression that the Mater was wearing. "I am the property of the Goblin King."

"Remember that," cautioned the Master as he once more tapped his walking stick. "Now, you too will be part of the entertainment, though you are only for the King's pleasure…he will want his _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_ to be properly displayed during this… fete."

Sarah seethed in her heart, wondering how he could be planning a party while her Harpy was being held captive by some unknown person. 'Properly displayed my ass,' she thought to herself. 'He's just going to show off what he can do to the poor helpless mortal girl who dared to defy him.'

--

Jareth looked out of his window gloved hands gripping the opening and grounding with the powers of the living creature upon which they lived, "Hang on my beautiful and vengeful black bird," he whispered knowing his voice would be heard by the one intended to hear it, and she alone. "You're deliverance is at hand… just keep your wits, and I'll let you bloody those lovely talons."

--

In a cage in the bowels of the Talagon fortress, the Harpy's ears caught the sound and while she had her back to her captor, she smiled a dark violent inhuman smile. If the King intended to allow her to dip her talons in Talagon's blood, perhaps he would not mind her taking other advantages as well. Looking slightly over one shoulder she sniffed the air and mused that the old fool was not nearly as barren as she'd once thought. Hunger was forcing her season to bloom, and it would be his downfall.

--

Bryn was practicing on the harp when Devon returned home. "Any word?" she asked as she placed the harp back in its upright position. The look on the Baron's face worried her. "Devon, is everything alright?" She moved to his side. "Has there been bad news about the Harpy?"

The man looked at her with concerned eyes. "No, there's no news about Della…"

Leading him to a chair, Bryn eased him into the seat. "What has you in such a state?"

"Jareth is arranging a reception for the High King and Queen," he looked at the girl who seemed confused; "In three days time."

Biting her lower lip, Bryn gave the news some careful thought. "I see."

"He's asked the Master of the Guild that trained his…_** Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_, to provide entertainment…" Devon buried his face in his hands. "He questioned my… loyalty."

Pity was not what the man needed, and Bryn didn't have any to give. "My Lord," she said in a formal and serious tone. "If the King of the Goblins has asked you to declare your loyalty…" Devon lowered his hands, looking at the woman speaking. "Then perhaps you'd better prepare yourself for something… dangerous to take place at this… gathering."

"My God and Goddess," he breathed deeply as he looked at her. "You're right." He leaned back in the chair. "Bryn, I want you to stay here…I am not going to expose you to the dangers at the Castle."

Bryn reached forward, touching the Baron's face with a gentle caress. "I fear you'll have no choice, my dear. We are but pawns in a greater game, Devon."

Grimacing, Devon moaned. "You've no idea what Sade's people do…"

Bryn snickered quietly. "Devon, I doubt it's anything I haven't seen… I danced in a strip club, remember?"

"I doubt you've seen what his people do." Devon repeated.

Bryn stood up and held her hands out to the man. "Three days time, eh?" she pulled him toward the stairs.

"Where are we going?" he asked confused.

"To bed," Bryn stated firmly; "Your room or mine;" when he didn't answer she sighed. "I don't plan on dying without getting to know you," she said coyly; "Intimately."

"My room," he said softly. "But Bryn… once you've joined me… I'll never let you go." He warned.

"Good," she pulled him up the stairs. "I'm not planning on going anywhere…."

--

Philo showed the finished invitations to the King, who smiled approvingly. The order was given and the gold embossed envelops were filled and sent out. Philo then went about the task of preparing the lavish state dining hall.

Jareth returned to his bedchamber with a dark plan to set in motion. He called for the _**Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan**_ to be delivered to him. When the girl entered the chamber he was seated in a throne like wooden high back chair. Coldly he looked at the woman who was at the heart of his plan. "Come here, wench." He barked the command knowing it would grate on Sarah.

Sarah moved toward him slowly. She would have liked to ask about the ongoing search for Della. She would have liked to seek comfort from the King, but his stance told her there was no comfort here for her. "You requested my presence?" She kept her tone formal and her eyes downcast.

Jareth had removed his ever present leather gloves and snapped his fingers, commanding her to knee before him. "I have need of you and you… talents…wench."

Sarah swallowed the bile that was now in her throat. "Do you, Sire?"

"Kneel," he growled callously.

She had not meant to, but groaned knowing what he wanted. "Must I?" she looked at him with just a hint of pleading.

"Are you disobeying me?" he asked in a tone that shook the girl. "You know what happens when you try to defy me, wench!" He leaned forward. "Or should I remind you that our truce is not written in stone."

"No," she knelt before him, submissive, and hating his power over her. She could see the orb dancing with light on the stand next to his bed. Silently she cursed him, and then cursed herself as she lowered her face as he released the bulging monster.

Jareth watched her, his hand stroking her hair as she was pressed into service. He enjoyed humiliating her, but it never seemed enough. He wondered if it ever would. "Take me deeper," he ordered.

Tears were in her eyes as she looked up at him, gagging on the male organ shoving its way into her throat. There was no pity in the mismatched eyes, no kindness, and no peace. The only thing Sarah found when she gazed into the stormy eyes was the King's pleasure in humiliating and degrading her. His fingers knotted in the long hair at the base of her neck, forcing her to take him deeper.

--

Devon lay in his bed, dazed and utterly contented beyond his wildest dreams. He smiled at the woman cuddling in his arms with an expression of satisfaction on her lovely face. "Thank you," he said quietly unsure if that were enough.

"Thank you," she replied with a silly smirk. She gathered the sheets about herself and settled back looking at the ceiling of the bedroom. "I feel so good…" she mused.

"Yes," he agreed. "You do." He teased lightly.

Bryn looked at him seriously for a moment. "Devon, there's something I need to know…"

He turned on his side and thinking she was about to ask about their future, he sighed. "Yes my darling?"

"Do you recall when you… flew into a rage because I was plotting to escape and I was using your library to find a means?" She asked.

"I didn't fly into a rage," he denied. "I was hurt, yes… but a rage?"

The girl in his bed mused at his being wounded and upset by the word rage. "I stopped looking for an escape when you stopped acting like an ass." She stated calmly.

Devon smiled fortuitously. "Ah, good."

"Devon, have you ever read any of the books in your library?" she interrogated him gently.

"Some," he said brushing a stray hair off her face. "A few…" he was distracted by her beauty and closeness. "I'm sure I've read… at least a couple of passages… but they are all so boring and cover subjects that are of no interest to me… just now."

Bryn snapped her fingers in front of his face to get his attention. "Listen up," she snapped harshly. "Devon… you really should have paid more attention to the volumes you've collected… You want to know why the King asked you about your loyalty. You want to know why he has not gone ape-shit trying to find Della?"

Devon sat up, glaring at her. "What are you babbling about?"

"What's coming," Bryn stated calmly. "And what you need to prepare for." Devon raised an inquisitive brow. "Your cousin the King is stacking a deck… and when the chips fall… he wants to be sure which side you're really on…."

"His of course," Devon said as if there should be no question.

"Devon, he's about to make a move, one that cannot be taken lightly in the High Courts… neither Seelie nor un…." She said softly. "He's about to toss out the last hold the courts have here… he's going to rescind all Fae Laws."

"What have you been reading?" Devon asked ruffling his hair with a raking hand.

"The history of this Kingdom," she said with a simpering smile. "Your cousin is about to call the bluff that has held this Kingdom in check for several hundred years… actually closer to a thousand."

"In my library?" he asked.

"No," she said mockingly. "In the corner library…"

"Beauty and brains," he mused as he shoved off the sheets, "A very dangerous combination Bryn."

Cocking her head coyly to one side she mused, "Be glad I'm on your side."


	43. Chapter 43

**Chapter 43. Lilith's last stand**

Ari watched his bride of two months with the eyes of a hawk, she was on lower dosages of the meds, and he should have been hopeful. She was still neither as lively nor as playful as she had been before Samhain, nevertheless she wasn't crying all the time either. He thought that his father's idea of coming to Greece for their honeymoon had been brilliant. At first the air and the sunshine and the people seemed to have breathed life once more into Lilith. Today however, watching the sun come up on the balcony of their villa bedroom, she seemed differant. She seemed to be falling back into old habits. She was plotting, and Ari aware of the directions that would lead. He pledged silently to the Gods to keep the constrained little witch just that, constrained and powerless.

"What are we doing today," she asked as she peered out at the majestic view. She worked at trying to sound interested, not wanting to have the meds dose increased yet again. It had taken her three weeks to get him to lower the dose to what it was now. While her brain was still fuzzy, she could function, and she could plot. At the top of her list was revenge, and Ari and his father were both on her short list right after a certain Goblin King.

"We are going to _**Ponza**_, the island that is said to be _**Aeaea**_, the onetime island home of Circe…" Ari looked at the day's schedule. He had seen _**Ponza**_, and deemed it was of no danger to his bride. With her powers having been bound she was as helpless as a kitten.

"Is that where the legendary Well of Circe is supposed to be?" Lilith asked trying to hide the excitement she felt.

"So they say," Ari joined her on the balcony. "Are you feeling better? Are you up to this little excursion?"

Tiring of his constant observation, Lilith would have liked to have scorned him, to avoid his touch. However she was scheming to make use of the famous witch's well, and to get to that well she needed Ari to believe she was content. When the handsome Greek she had wed reached for her she didn't shy away, but instead she hide her anger and disdain. "I'm feeling much better, thank you. I can't thank you and your father enough for bringing me home to Greece." She smiled coyly at her husband.

Ari had been and still was grateful to his father; the older Karras had seen to it that there were no obstacles in the way of Ari marrying Lilith. Lilith's mother had been given a handsome bride's price, and as a formal member of the Karras family was assured she'd be taken care of for the rest of her life. Ari's father had seen to all the arrangements, and to the dispensations that had to be made with the local Bishop of the Greek Orthodox Church. The elder Karras had insisted on a binding marriage in the church. He knew that both his son and the bride had been practicing the old ways, and while he respected the traditions that were making a resurgence among the young people, he also understood how important a formal marriage in the Greek Church was. The Bishop had been reluctant to approve the marriage, but after many negotiations, had finally agreed to the ceremony.

However the elder Karras was not as accepting of the young woman as his son. He didn't trust her any further than he could see her, but he had allowed the marriage for the sake of peace with his son. He had also put conditions on Ari, conditions that were just as binding as the spell the Goblin King had put on Lilith. Lilith was not to be allowed any real voice in anything. She was not to be given more money than she really needed, and was absolutely to be barred from using the Corporation as her toy. Ari understood his father's misgivings; he had some of his own. However his sense of responsibility for the entire mess at the asylum over rode his hesitation and doubts. Still, each time he held the woman he could feel her tense up. He knew she was still missing Sarah, even though she never mentioned her or Bryn. In his heart of hearts Ari knew that this misbegotten devotion to Sarah was on Lilith. He knew that the missing girl had little or nothing to do with the ardor his wife felt. He hoped that in time the woman would forget the exiled and dead to the mortal realm Sarah. He hoped that this trip to _**Ponza**_ would please the sulky woman and give her something else to think on, not just the missing Sarah.

"I have our flight to Italy booked, and we'll take a car out to the marina. We'll be taking one of the boats out to the island… it's not really an island... it's more of a marsh surrounded outcropping of rock, I'm told." He gave her a tender smile. "They say _**Grotta della Maga Circe**_ is beautiful. I've seen _**Ponza**_, but I had not gone out to the grotto." Kissing her brow he pushed her toward the bedroom. "Go get dressed, the day is wasting away." She giggled and moved toward the rooms, when she'd closed herself off into the bath, Ari looked out at the city and frowned. She was up to something, he was sure of it. She was almost too eager to see the cave… the cave of the Greek witch Circe…. Was he making a mistake to take her there? He was wondering if the binding of her powers was still holding… he could but pray that it was. Turning from the view of the city he moved slowly into the villa to dress for the day.

--

Circe watched her father taunt the Harpy mercilessly. She thought he would have tired of this nonsense, but it seemed he never found it a bore. Standing back, out of the eye sight of the winged woman in the cage Circe watched and frowned. He was a fool, perhaps not as big a fool as other men but fool enough. She wondered how it was he had managed to accumulate so much land and power over the years. In her estimation he was neither as talented nor as cunning as some in the courts of the High King. She would if asked put him on the same level as the foolish Goblin King whom she detested. Neither one was worth her trouble, she told herself. Both would need to be eliminated. When the lands of the Talagon and the Goblin's Labyrinth were joined together it would be a Queen who would rule them, she vowed. Seeing herself in her mind's eye seated upon the Goblin Throne. A cunning little smile crossed her grim lips.

--

The little Lear jet that Ari had booked had made short work of the trip from Greece to Italy. He kept a smile on his face, but in the back of his mind he was keeping alert, watching for trouble. Lilith seemed to be very peaceful as they flew over the ocean and landed in the little airport outside the City of _**Ponza**_. But things with Lilith were a quilt of deceptions, and Ari knew he had to keep alert.

_**Ponza**_ was idyllic, a city that had become a tourist haven yet remained old fashioned and low keyed. The car that Ari had hired carried them to the marina without stopping in the fashionable town. Ari had murmured something about stopping for shopping after they had seen the grottos. He could have saved his breath as his wife was only interested in seeing the cave that had belonged to one of her hero's.

The boat that took them to the beautiful bay that was the only means of reaching the grotto was comfortable if small. Ari, playing the doting bridegroom, kept an arm about his lovely young bride. The men who manned the little ship commented in their own language about the lovers. Lilith ignored all of them, thinking only of how close she was to the grotto. She painted a contented smile on her face, and prayed the man at her side was fooled by it.

Pulling into the notched out outcropping the Captain of the ship said something to Air. He in turn said to Lilith, "_**Grotta della Maga Circe**_."

Eyes sparkling with the old fires, she looked at her husband and simpered. "Can we go in?" Nodding, Ari smiled back. 'Fool,' she thought to herself. 'Now begins my revenge.'

--

Tiring of her father's antics, Circe headed for the hidden chamber she'd kept secret from the old Fae Lord. She opened a portal, needing fresh sea air. Stepping out she found herself standing in the grotto which bore her name. She knew that tourist now came here, seeking a touch of the magic that had been used in the caves. Seeking a touch of the one who had wooed adventurers, and turned the unworthy into dogs. She detested the desecration of her personal space by what she considered to be mortal scum. She felt her private lands had been violated. This day there were very few tourists, too close to the coming of the mortal New Year she mused. However there was the one little boat anchoring and a young couple climbed out of the little ship and onto her shores. Circe hid from their view by means of the old magic, and watched them. Inquisitive of what would bring one out to her grotto. She sensed something of magic in both the young Greek and his woman as they approached. But it was the female who drew Circe's attention.

Lilith wanted to wretch, the touch of Ari's hand holding hers gave her no pleasure. She smiled, but didn't enjoy his company. She would have preferred to have been exploring the cave that had been used by Circe alone. The young Greek man had read up on the cave and was telling his uninterested bride what he had learned. Lilith was not impressed, for she knew things about the caves that were not printed in any tourist guide. She knew the secrets of the Sect of Circe, she knew of the hidden well that could restore one's soul. She prayed it could also restore powers that had been stolen.

Circe, hidden in the darkness, wondered how long it would be before the mortals would tire of her cave and leave her in peace. She longed to drink from the sacred waters that few even noticed. She desired to remove her garments and dance naked upon the sands at the mouth of the grotto and bath in the sea.

Ari released Lilith's hand, moving to look at an old pictograph on the wall. Seeing a chance for a moment of freedom the young bride moved stealthily toward the shadows as if honing in on something. She knelt keeping an eye on the young man, found a sharp rock and cut into her hand. Allowing a few drops of her blood to drop on the floor of the cave, and she urgently evoked the name of the Sorceress in a quick whisper. "Circe, hear me!" More drops of her blood she caused to fall on the ground Lilith looked down to be sure the blood was soaking into the crevasse of the cave. "Save me, sweet vengeful spirit!" She looked over her shoulder at her husband who was unaware of her having sacrificed her own blood to the Goddess/Sorceress. "Help me sweet spirit, help me avenge myself."

Circe used Fae Magic to still time about the girl, freezing the handsome Greek man. She stepped out of the shadows and answered the girl. "What is it you seek? And why do you evoke my name?" she asked allowing the girl to see her.

Lilith looked at the woman who now stepped forward; she was exactly what Lilith had expected. "I was once a user of magic," she lamented in a shaky voice. "Part of a powerful circle of three… until the damned _**Goblin King**_ banished me from the lands of magic and bound my powers… and took my beloved from me."

Circe glanced past the girl, toward the man frozen in time. The man was handsome, young and full of vigor. "He is not your beloved?" The Sorceress inquired with mirth.

"He is the husband I've been saddled with," growled the soul wounded girl. "My beloved was one of my circle sisters."

Amused and absorbed by the faint energy the Greek girl gave off Circe smiled, "Tell me more," she encouraged. "What is it you want?"

"I want Sarah back," Lilith's voice filled with anger and demanding. "In time she would have loved me…. I know she would…. For I understood her, and no _**man**_ would ever be able to do that." Her delusion was now absorbing her soul. "I want what the Goblin King stole from me."

Moving in a circle about the angry Greek, Circe drank in the essence of ire the girl was giving off. It was a heady brew, better than the waters she'd hungered for moments ago. The intensity of the Greek girl's hate for the men of the world was like nothing Circe had ever tasted. She murmured a pleasured sound, filling with the lusty energies. "If I help you, you will have to pay me… and my price is not inexpensive." She warned.

Lilith looked to where her husband was frozen, "I'll pay you whatever you want to be free of that which binds me. I have no desire to be bound power-wise or with this… man."

Circe reached forward; her hand caressed the line of Lilith's cheek and then her jaw. "You don't even know what my price is, as yet." The young woman turned her face into the gentle hand that caressed her face. Circe's hand moved slowly down the girl's neck to her collar bone, "How can you be so eager to pay, who is this Sarah and is she really worth what I will demand? Why are you so eager to be free of this virile male? Does he not please thee?"

"Sarah's the most powerful mortal witch I've ever met in this life," Lilith purred as she felt Circe's hand slid into her blouse. "And I'd pay any price to have her back…living in her presence, being able to feed off the energies she exudes… being able to direct her," Lilith grew excited, and aroused. "I would be happy to just bath in the stray energy field that surrounds her… to breath in her scent…" Her dark eyes looked over at the frozen male. "He thinks he can control me… thinks he can use me for his own pleasures… thinks he can keep me under his thumb; stupid man."

The long fingers of the Fae who had been known as a Goddess in times gone by, by mortals who didn't know the difference between Gods and Fae moved into the girl's undergarment and teased her nipple. "You are not unaccustomed to the touch of a woman… or her hungers," She stated with pleased conviction. "Perhaps we can strike a bargain… for I too wish to unseat the _**Goblin King**_."

Lilith favored the other with a simpering smile. "Perhaps we can scratch each other's itch." She suggested reaching forward to touch the Sorceress as she was touching Lilith. Seeing the look of pleasure that crossed Circe's face, the Greek girl moved closer. "I will pay whatever you ask." Her voice was excited, and she was aroused. "And then some."

Circe began to open the buttons on Lilith's blouse; she pushed the fabric aside with expert hands. "You may find yourself not wanting that which you longed for before," she warned before she leaned forward to kiss the Greek girl's long neck. Her teeth grazed the soft skin of the girls' exposed neck.

Lilith shrugged out of the open blouse, reached behind her and unfastened the bra she wore. She pulled it away, freeing her breasts and offered them brazenly to the Sorceress. "Kiss me," when the other leaned in and began to kiss her, she begged, "Suckle…Sweet Sorceress…"

Circe licked her lips before placing her mouth about the offered breast hungrily. "Delicious little witch," she murmured. "I will grant your wishes." She slowly pulled the Greek girl into the shadows and to the hidden cot in the darkness. "We will be the undoing to the Goblin King, you and I…and you will take back what he has stolen from you including your powers once he is no more." Circe heard Lilith moan with delight as she removed both their garments. Lilith moved her hands down the soft smooth skin of the Fae Sorceress, grasping the fleshy rounded ass with both hands and squeezing with demanding fingers, Circe teased the perky nipple in her mouth with her tongue and her teeth. She mewled in pleasure as Lilith arched, she released the nipple to smile at her co conspirator. "You are no novice, are you?"

"I know how to fuck," Lilith stated with pride. "Male or female…" One hand moved from the Sorceress's ass to the folds of her sex. "Does my lady prefer finger fucking or to be tongue fucked?"

Circe's eyes narrowed to slits as the Greek girl slid long skilled fingers into her. "Both," she murmured delightedly moving one leg to give the girl more access to her. "Please me; and you will be rewarded." She promised.

Lilith placed her head on the shoulder of her new lover, "You feel like silk," she purred as her fingers moved in and out of the other. "I bet you taste good too…." Flicking her tongue over the skin so close to her mouth, she drew a startled response. Removing her long fingers she slid them into her mouth to suck off the goo, "Better than good," she purred. "You taste magical…"

--

Circe watched with reluctance as the other dressed, "There is no rush," she murmured wanted to be pleasured just one more time. "I can keep us outside the realm of mortal time for an indefinite period."

Dark Greek eyes looked at the beauty on the cot, "Much as I'm tempted," Lilith sighed. "We must begin our work to bring down the Goblin King."

Poised like a cobra, Circe gave the mortal a simpering smile. "You have not once asked why I wish to take down this King."

"I don't care why," Lilith answered with complete honesty. "All that matters to me is that you do." She smoothed her garments, taking care with her wounded hand. "Your reasons are yours, and I'm sure you have no need to share them with a mere mortal."

Circe swung her legs over the side of the cot and sat upright. "True enough; I thank you for your respectfulness." She flicked her wrist, once more her garment were covering her body. She stood up and moved toward the Greek girl with outstretched hands. "That which the Goblin took from you will be restored, and given the information you've supplied me with I will be able to bring down the reign of the Goblin King once and for all…"

Lilith's hands clutched those of the Sorceress, "I am honored to have been of use to you, my Lady." Raising one hand, Lilith planted a tender devoted kiss in the palm of the Sorceress.

Fae eyes looked at the mortal, keeping a mask of delight on her face. The Fae was trying of the game, and longed to return to the FairyLands. She looked at the hand holding hers, with its open wound. "You must let me heal that," she insisted. "We don't need that man of yours smelling the traps that are about to snap." Kissing the wound, Circe used magic to heal the open gash that had a red angry welt surrounding the injury. Instantly it closed, scared and healed. "Now you are mine," Circe stated softly; "A devotee of the Circle of Circe."

"I am your servant," Lilith said with a bow of her head and eyes closed in what appeared to be supplication.

"I will begin the wheel turning, your Sarah will be returned to you, and you will bring her into my service;" instructed the Sorceress as she released the hands of the Greek witch.

"Of course," Lilith said turning toward the frozen man. "Blessed be the name of Circe…" She let the simpering expression fall away, and her loathing crossed her face for an unguarded moment.

Circe moved toward the shadows, "Fare thee well, my sweet…" she said in taking her leave of the mortal and the moral realm for the sanctuary of the Fairy Realm. "Fool," she whispered in a gloat under her breath.

Lilith moved with her back to the Sorceress, moving to where she'd been standing when the mortal temporal frame had been frozen. "Fool," she growled under her breath, cursing the immortal who had just left her. She then pasted the smile on her face that she knew Ari would be looking for. 'What I endure at his hands is nothing compared to what I've just endured at the hands of Circe… and it's all for you Sarah,' Lilith thought to herself as she joined her husband. 'Soon, sweet Sarah, soon we'll be together again.'

--

Circe found her father as she'd left him, taunting. She shook her head in passing and moved toward the dining hall of the fortress her father called home. She was in need of a repast.

--

The _**Grotta della Maga Circe**_ was empty, or so it would seem. From the shadows came grotesque little figures, peering to see if mortal or Fae still inhabited the space. They had gone undetected, weather it had been due to the stupidity of both or their arrogance the presence of the Goblins had gone totally undetected. The leader of the little band shook his head, and nodded to the messenger who opened a portal close to the one that the Fae Sorceress had used to travel back to the Fae Realms. Another was sent to follow the bound Greek witch. The leader than ordered the others, "Salt the ground," he then turned and opened a separate portal and passed through.

Jareth stood outlined by the lights of the stars in the night sky, deep in meditation he stared out the window. The leader of the moles bowed, moving closer to the King. "It is as you suspected, the Greek plots to gain back her powers, and the daughter of Talagon plots to bring down you. Both plot to stab the other in the back." He sneered.

Jareth nodded, placing a finger to his nose, "Let us give them the rope…"

--

Ari looked at the pleased look on his wife's sleeping face. She was not thinking of him, of that he was sure. He had a sneaking hunch she was about to bolt, and he would not have that. He rose from the bed, lit up a cigarette and bitterly watched his wife sleep and dream. "Not this time," he muttered as he opened a draw and removed a little back medications case. He stuck a fresh syringe into the bottle of**_ GHB _**he'd packed along with the rest of the meds that were being used to control Lilith. He made sure there was no air in the line, and then moved quietly to where the woman lay asleep. Without regards for how it was going to affect the woman, he jabbed her with the needle and roughly shoved the plunger down to dispense the liquid in the syringe. Lilith sat up and looked at him with wide eyes. She gasped for breath before the drug racing in her blood stream achieved its result.

"Ari, no!"

Coldly he stood back waiting for the drug to take effect, he held up the empty syringe. "I warned you, bitch… there's no going back."

"I didn't do anything," she moaned as the drug burned into her system. "You were with me all day… I never left your side…"

"Lying bitch," he spat at her. "Don't you think I know when you've been sexing it up?" He placed the needle on the end table beside her side of the bed. "I don't know how, or who… but you were unfaithful to me… and you've plotted to get Sarah back… call it a hunch, Lil… but it goes no further…from here on out, you'll be my obedient little sex toy… but you can forget ever being more… I'm going to keep you stoned out of your gourd."

"No… she'll think I betrayed her," gasped the girl whose body began to betray her. "Cir…" the rest became a slur.

Ari moved away from the bed, moved to the phone and dialed a number. "Snake, we've got trouble coming our way. Set up the wards, I'm coming home… get the asylum ready." He hung up the phone before calling for his servant. "My wife has taken ill, we are leaving." He was now seated on the side of the bed, behaving like a concerned husband should. The servant nodded, and promised to have the couple packed in a few hours. When the maid came to see to the mistress, the drug container and syringe had been returned to the little black medicine case, ready to be packed with the rest of their belongings. Only then did Ari leave his wife to dress, telling the maid to stay with her and not take her eyes off her. He also told the young Greek girl who was acting as maid to listen carefully and to report to him whatever his wife muttered. He was certain the girl would obey him out of fear of his family if not out of loyalty.

While he dressed, he mentally went over the events of the day, and cursed his carelessness. 'Circe,' he thought to himself. 'How stupid could I be?' he looked in the mirror and focused every bit of his mind. "Hear me, o Goblin King," he evoked, "you are in danger! Be watching for a witch named Circe…." He took a deep breath. "If you wish to keep the two who targeted you at Samhain, keep your wits about you." He turned from the mirror having seen something that should not have been there. A pair of eyes, mismatched blue but like storms at sea. The most powerful eyes he'd ever seen. His message had been delivered and received; he moved back into the bedroom and looked at his unconscious wife, oblivious to everything happening about her. He also looked at the maid who was sitting beside her. "Get her ready," he ordered sharply. "We are leaving here."


	44. Chapter 44

**Chapter 44. Staging a catastrophe**

The first of the King's guests began to arrive and were shown to the stately great hall. Fae women dressed in gowns that left little to the imagination stood side by side with goblin and Hobgoblin women who were also dressed in extravagant over-the-top style. Lady Rosalind arrived unescorted at the entry only to be directed up to the King's bedchamber. Not since he'd revealed the _**Tagaan**__** or Rhuukarlaan**_ had any other woman been given access to the King's bedchamber. Rosalind was smart enough not to read too much in the invitation. She tapped gently at the door and waited until Jareth's voice bid her to enter. Only then did she place a hand on the door knob.

"You sent for me?" She asked moving into the room admiring the changes that Jareth had made, at the last moment she remembered to drop into a deep curtsey. "I love what you've done with this room," she commented, eyes sweeping to take it all in.

"So glad you approve," he said as he finished dressing. "I've an assignment for you, my little minx." He had not even bothered to look at her, to see her dress or the way she'd done her hair. He was less concerned with her appearance than ever. "Care to play the evil seductress?"

"With you?" she mused as she remained in the curtsey position looking up at him with gentle eyes and a sweet pout on her lips.

"No," he said flicking imaginary dust from his cuff; "Talagon."

"Find someone else," she groaned. "He's a pig, and that's being polite."

Turning to look at her for the first time since she'd entered, Jareth wore a grim expression on his handsome face. "There is no one else," he informed her as he moved toward her and looked down at her still awaiting his permission to rise. "No one else has my trust." He extended a hand to her, knowing that if she accepted it she would be trapped in the agreement to do his bidding. His expression changed to the haughtiness of old.

Rosalind frowned, hesitating before she placed her hand into that of the King. "That's not fair, Jareth," she grumbled. Once she was standing tall beside the King she sighed. "What would you have me do?"

"I'm seating you beside the old fool…" Jareth released her hand, placing his behind his back. "He fancies himself quite the ladies man. I want you to feed that… impression. Flatter him, flirt with the old fool… and let him brag to you… oh and for God and Goddess sake Rosalind, don't let him see how intelligent you are. Let him think you're broken hearted at being cast aside by the cad Goblin King."

"I never called you a cad," the defensive cry came quickly.

"Do so tonight, my dear." He instructed. "No one knows you've arrived, go down the back way and enter by the main doors… be announced like everyone else and play the jilted lover to the hilt for me, would you?"

"Jilted lover," she scoffed lightly. "We were never lovers, my king." She reminded him darkly.

"No one knows that now do they pet?" Jareth crooned.

"I don't know what you're up to," she said heading to the door. "In fact I'm sure I don't want to know, but I'll do as you ask…. Have you given Devon his orders for this evening?"

Jareth cleared his throat, "Rosalind," his serious tone halted her movement. "This night I may very well lose my cousin's respect and his friendship."

The woman in the lavender and green gown looked taken aback. "Impossible…. There is nothing that could come between you and him… why I've seen brothers who are not nearly as close."

"I'm going to make a play for his little mortal pet." Jareth warned.

"You have one of your own," Rosalind snapped.

"For my plans to work, I need to appear callous and calculating… and manipulative." Jareth didn't look troubled, only annoyed.

Rosalind had known both King and Baron for years; she pitied the Baron at this moment. "Where would you like me to deliver my findings?"

"You will be contacted in the morning," Jareth sighed.

"Wouldn't it do better to receive the information this evening?" Her hand rested lightly on the handle of the door.

"I'm going to be far too busy if all goes as I've planned," he motioned her to leave. Once she did he took a deep breath and squared himself. He turned to find Rondo standing awaiting orders. "Bring Captain Bookworm to me." The King ordered.

--

Devon looked at the gown he'd had made for Bryn. "My, my," he complemented the girl. "I shall be the envy of all."

"I doubt that," Bryn giggled. "I have no powers; I am your chattel and have no citizenship…." She spun round to show off the lovely gown. "The only thing I have is the prettiest dress that was ever made."

Extending his hands to her, Devon mused lightly, "A pretty dress for a pretty girl." Once her hands rested in his he added; "My girl."

"Yours alone," Bryn promised. "I do however have a comment on this… gown."

Devon feigned being concerned; he had a suspicion what her comments were going to be on. "Whatever could be wrong?"

Discreetly Bryn moved the fabric, revealing an inconspicuous opening in the gown. "What's this?"

Devon slipped his hand into the aperture and caressed her bosom. "It's a lovers gown my Bryn." He murmured.

Blushing madly, Bryn moved closer to the caressing fingers. "You plan on petting me in public?" Devon smiled before calling for their cloaks. "Come Bryn, we mustn't be late."

--

Daisy, dressed in her best warrior armor appeared at the King's door. She entered and bowed to the King. "You sent for me?"

"I want you to deliver my _**Tagaan**__** or Rhuukarlaan**_ here in a few minutes." Jareth informed the Goblin woman. "She should be getting her instructions in the west wing, Daisy…" he cautioned. "This evening she is going to try to escape."

Daisy gasped, "Never," she growled.

"I'm going to force her to flee… and you are to allow it to happen." He moved to stand beside the captain of his guard. Placing a hand on her shoulder he bent closer to give her personal orders. "Daisy, I need her to escape… or at least think she's escaping. "

"Where do you plan to herd her to?" Daisy understood her King.

"The tunnels beneath us…" He pointed toward his feet. "There I plan a merry chase and a rather nasty trap for Sarah."

Admiration flickered in the eyes of the goblin woman. "Lucky Sarah," she crooned.

"If all goes according to plan," agreed the grim King, strolling back toward his night stand. He pointed to the orb seated in plain view. "Do you know what this is?"

"The dreams you harvested from the _**Tagaan**__** or Rhuukarlaan**_," Daisy confided.

"Yes," Jareth picked up the orb which immediately sprang to life; mists swirled and filled the orb before images began to form. "Sarah will see me… fondling it when you arrive, make nothing of it, even if she fusses. I'm going to leave it here, activated, tempting her. It will draw her to it when she flees my party downstairs."

"You want her to try to steal it back?" the Goblin Captain questioned.

"Yes," he looked at her, "I want you to make sure she is not impeded. I want her to think she's outsmarted us all."

"And your guests," Daisy asked lightly. "What will they think when the _**Tagaan**__** or Rhuukarlaan**_ makes a break for it?"

"There will be a disturbance that will distract one and all," Jareth said with the first signs of regret. "Baron Devon is about to…"

"I understand," Daisy said preventing the king from going further. "You need not explain nor do you need to justify to me, my King." She went to bended knee. "I am loyal to you my King."

"I know that Captain," he stated placing the orb back on its stand. "I should warn you, Sarah is not going to be happy about the way I've ordered her dressed for this evening."

"She is _**Tagaan**__** or Rhuukarlaan**_," Daisy rose up. "I will bring her to you." She bowed to the King before exiting to the hall.

--

Sarah stared at the reflection and swallowed the bile that was gathering in her throat. There was no mistaking this outfit for what it was; it was the most exaggerated gaudy ornate overly sexual garment she'd ever seen. She hated it, and hated how dirty it made her feel. Master Donatien Sade stood back at a distance, watching her reactions. "Is there a problem?" His voice cracked like a whip.

"No, sir," she answered while her eyes belied the answer.

"Good," Sade could hear the foot falls of the Goblin Captain who would escort the barely mortal woman to the king. "Your escort is arriving," he smoothed his own lavish robes. "It would be rude to keep the King waiting."

Sarah looked at the hideous garments one more time. He was boasting without words, boasting of having a mortal slave, she told herself. While the garment he'd dressed her in to present her to the Seelie court had been revealing, it had also been sedate even reserved. This on the other hand was beyond brassy, it was gaudy and tasteless. Her nipples were barely covered, and the rings were visible, hanging out of little slits made for that purpose. On her hips were chains that held the modesty panel in place. Her feet were bare, and her hair unadorned. Her wrists were bound in cuffs made of some metical substance that she could not name. Her ankles and her neck were also adorned in this manner. The King was not letting anyone who attended the fete forget, this was his personal slave. His _**Tagaan**__** or Rhuukarlaan**_, his whore. Sarah fought back the bitter tears.

Daisy didn't knock nor request entry; she looked at the Guild Master with cool eyes. "Is the _**Tagaan**__** or Rhuukarlaan**_ ready?" Donatien nodded and inclined his head toward the woman standing at the mirror. Daisy walked to her, keeping a formal expression on her goblin face. "He wants you."

Sarah nodded; wordlessly she turned and followed the escort out of the training chambers. Only after she'd departed did Master Donatien Sade relax briefly. He pulled himself together, and rang the chamber cord. One of his minions moved swiftly to him. "Are we ready?"

--  
Jareth lounged on the bed, holding the orb that spun pretty dreams for his viewing. He could hear the women coming down the hall. One in heavy goblin boots, the other barefooted. He smiled wickedly, "Come into my den, said the spider to the fly," he crooned just before Daisy tapped on his door. "Come in," he commanded.

Sarah moved into the rooms reluctantly. "You sent for me?" her eyes were downcast, and she awaited his orders.

"Yes, I would have you on my arm as I enter the great hall," Jareth said coldly. Sarah looked up, fire jumping into her eyes at the sight of the orb filled with her dreams. Jaw locking she refused to be played into an outburst. Jareth pretended not to notice her; he wanted her to think him fascinated by her dreams. Gently, almost reverently he placed the orb on the little stand. "Most amusing," he murmured as he rose from the bed. "Perhaps we'll have to play that out." He looked at his slave, "you will attend me personally this evening." He commanded.

"Yes Sire," Sarah answered, clenching one hand tightly.

--

Oberon looked at the décor changes, cringing slightly as he and his royal court members entered the great hall. "What is he up to," he questioned tightly.

Tatiana too noticed the changes. "He's embracing his Goblin side," she warned.

The High King shot a look at his wife that silenced her.

Duke Winderspire, standing behind the High King didn't seem to notice the changes as much. His wife clucked her tongue in her cheek and thought of what a shame it was the High King's son was forced to live in such dire surroundings. She leaned over to her daughter and whispered something about the castle needing a woman's touch.

--

Talagon sat uncomfortably in his coach; he would have preferred to use magic to make a grand entrance. However the King had put up wards that even his magic was unable to breech. He looked at Circe, "What nonsense is this?"

"He's showing off," the woman said coldly; "Preening for his Father."

"And that old fool will most likely think it's for him that this…fete is being thrown." Talagon's tone had passed treacherous long before they had entered Goblin territory. "Once we are free of this fool… I shall show the High King what a Real Goblin King can do, and how he should behave."

"Of course," Circe said allowing the old man to believe she was still his most staunch supporter.

"Are you certain your little mortal pet gave you the right information?" Talagon asked.

"Trust me father," she quieted him as they entered the castle gate. "We are here, relax and enjoy the evening's festivities."

--

Devon saw Rosalind looking sulky as he and Bryn entered the great hall. He looked at the decorations that Jareth had ordered put up. Nothing Fae remained in the great hall, it was now all Goblin décor, "Oh dear," he muttered. "Jareth is up to something."

"You think," muttered Bryn in return. She saw the Fae woman go stiff and bristle as they approached her.

Devon also noticed Rosalind's reaction and halted his steps. "What the hell," he muttered looking about the room. There were more members of the Goblin Court present than any other race. "He's staging a donnybrook of some sort," his hand reached for his lady's hand.

Bryn looked up at the grand staircase. "He's challenging them," she gasped. She saw the way the Goblin King stood at the top of stairs. Jareth was dressed in full Goblin regalia, including the circlet crown. His face was cold, stony, haughty and inhuman, and Bryn shivered in spite of trying not to. "Oh my God," she gasped as Sarah moved forward. "He's lost his mind…." Jareth heard the utterance; with serpentine grace he turned his gaze on Bryn. Devon moved closer to her and the King merely grinned. The great hall silenced as more and more of the guests gazed upward for the King's grand entrance. Bryn watched Sarah, wanting to reach out to her friend, but because of protocol, unable to.

Once he reached the foot of the grand staircase, Jareth looked at his guests. "Welcome to my home." He moved forward toward the stunned High King and Queen. "I bid you welcome," his hand extended to his father in greeting.

The astonished and astounded High King accepted the greeting before he was aware he'd even moved. His eyes darkened, "Jareth," there were a warning in his greeting.

Jareth ignoring the warning turned to the High Queen. "You look lovely as usual Madam." He bowed to her in his best courtly manner.

Tatiana whispered her thanks, fearful of what her voice would have sounded like if she spoke aloud.

Jareth moved to Duke Winderspire and his wife. "How nice of you to attend," He didn't miss the open look of shock on the Duchess's face seeing Sarah. "And you've brought dear little Tanya," he murmured in a dark and suggestive manner; "How delightful." Tanya looked from Sarah to the king and muttered something unintelligible. Enjoying his slave's affect on the guests, he moved on to Talagon who was openly leering at Sarah. "My Lord," He growled at the man before looking with a lusty gaze at Circe, "Lady Circe," he bowed toward her. "I do hope you'll save one dance for me." Circe looked at him with contempt. He gave her a haughty smile. "Duty calls; I must greet the rest of my honored guests."

Moving past the Talagon's he headed for Devon who looked at him with exasperation. "Cousin," he greeted the man without even looking at him, for his eyes were locked on Bryn. "My dear," He extended a hand to the mortal girl. Sarah looked up, making a low growling sound in the back of her throat. Bryn looked at Devon unsure of how to react; once he'd nodded she placed her hand in the gloved hand extended toward her. "You look delightful," he murmured as he bent over her hand. He smiled to himself, aware that Bryn was looking helplessly at Sarah who was looking daggers at the King's back.

Daisy watched, amused and aware that the dangers of this game could cost one or more of the guests their life.

Devon cleared his throat quietly as his cousin spent a bit too long bent over Bryn's hand. Jareth straightened up and looked at the mortal girl. "I'd not really noticed how lovely you are." He commented to his cousin's lover. "Or how fiery." He saw her shrink back slightly, and turned away to greet more guests.

"What was that all about?" Bryn asked Devon who was now watching his cousin move on.

"I don't know," he confessed, franticly he looked about the room. More than one Fae guest was looking startled. "I don't know what he's up to…" Devon moved closer to Bryn. "Oh this can't be good."

--

Oberon looked at the scantily clad slave following the Goblin King, "I'm glad you insisted that Linda not accompany us." He murmured to his wife.

"She'd have his liver," Tatiana muttered watching the girl whom the High King was looking on with pity. "Poor child," she sighed as the High King led her toward the high table and their assigned seats.

Duke Winderspire either had not noticed or had chosen to remain oblivious to the woman who was standing behind the King. "I say my Liege," he addressed Oberon as he took his seat at the table for the guests of honor. "That rascal boy of yours has turned this kingdom round, has he not?" He placed a hand over that of his wife. "You really should be talking to him about taking a proper Queen."

Tanya looked at her father as if he'd lost his mind, but her mother hissed at her to be still and the girl kept her opinions to herself.

Talagon and Circe were surprised to find their seats at the high table as well. Be it at the other end from Oberon and his Queen. Talagon suggested to his daughter that perhaps the fool Goblin King had come to realize that they were of a finer cut than he'd imagined. Circe doubted it, but she too kept her opinions to herself. She was thinking how wonderful it was going to be when she would see the mortal play mate of the King destroyed. She looked down the table at sweet innocent little Tanya, and began to formulate how the child could be used in her master plan.

--

Jareth stood looking majestically at his guests; raised a goblet of fine wine and toasted them all. "To your very good health," he paused and looked at his father. "But most of all to our beloved High King." He sipped the wine watching over the rim as his guests mimicked him. Placing the goblet down, he addressed the crowd. "I thank you all for joining me in this celebration. My Kingdom is pleased to host you." He took his seat, "I've arranged some entertainment for your pleasure." He motioned the guard at the door, who nodded to someone in the outer corridor.

Master Donatien Sade strode in, looking imposing and yet so grandiose in his long flowing black robes. His long slivery hair was unbound and hung over his shoulders like a lion's mane. His expressive Hobgoblin eyes swept the room with care; his lips remained pursed in a grim expression. Once he reached the center of the room, he bowed to the Goblin King, and then to the High King. He raised the staff in his hand and lowered it to tap the stone tiles of the floor.

Devon, seated with Bryn at a table across the room looked from the Master directing his minions to the Goblin King seated in a throne like chair. He felt slighted, but kept his hurt to himself. This was the first time Jareth had ever placed him anywhere but the high table. He wondered if Jareth were ignoring him on purpose, for his cousin had not even looked his way.

Sarah stood behind the King's chair, keeping a stiff upper lip. This was not like the reception at Avalon. Her mother was not here, not able to give her strength, not even from afar. She watched the demonstration given in the center of the room with veiled eyes while servants began to serve the meal. She looked longingly at the food being served; the King had ordered that she not eat.

Bryn felt Sarah's hunger, turning to Devon she remarked quietly. "She's hungry."

Devon gazed at the solemn heartrending woman standing behind his cousin; he too could feel her hunger. "I know for a fact that she's being nourished," he whispered back to his beloved. "I can't answer for what he'd done today." Placing a hand over Bryn's he whispered urgently. "Don't look at my love, you cannot be seen showing her pity."

Bryn looked at the demonstration and then at her own plate of food. "I know," she answered at last.

"Eat," urged Devon.

"It will taste like saw dust," she answered.

Jareth listened to the different conversations going on in the room. All the while keeping his mask up and letting one and all think he was mesmerized by the demonstration. He could also hear the churning sounds of hunger from the woman behind him. He hear the dry gulp, and the quiet sigh, she was suffering but silent and resolute. For his plan to work, she had to be driven to an act of desperation, and hunger was only the first step.

Master Donatien Sade watched with eagle eyes the reactions to the players in the center of the room. Some of the Fae men were intrigued while most of the women were embarrassed. Miss Winderspire's jaw had dropped and her mouth was slightly agape. Her mother was lowering her eyes, uncomfortable and self-conscious. Only the High King and Queen seemed to be unscathed. Both watched in interest, with no signs of self-consciousness. When he could, he pivoted, giving himself a clear observation of the Talagons. Lord Talagon was openly leering as the King had suggested he would. Donatien was surprised at how well Jareth had read this rival. More surprising was how well he had read Circe… as far as Donatien knew the Goblin King had had little association with the woman. And yet he had understood and read her as well as a man who had been lovers with the icy aloof indifferent woman sitting beside Lord Talagon. It was clear to Donatien who was well versed in the reading of people that the young woman had a decidedly pointed dislike for the man who was her father. Oh it was hidden well enough, and few, Fae included, could read it. Donatien made a gesture, one few would even remember him having made, and he signaled the King.

Jareth saw the signal, smiled briefly and kept eating while he watched with an amused expression on his face the rather ribald display. When the demonstration was completed, he applauded the bawdy troupe of entertainers. He then waved the members of the once banned Guild off. Mistrials took their places and began to entertain the guest in the accustomed manner. Jareth felt Sarah shift her weight behind him; he could hear the hunger ravaging her. He raised his goblet and looked down the table toward Tanya Winderspire. "Miss Winderspire," he addressed her without having first spoken to her parents, a breach of etiquette and protocol. "I've been told you've a pleasing voice, would you not grace us with a song?"

Tanya blushed, "I've not prepared a number," she stammered.

"Oh come now," the Goblin King chided pleasantly, yet there was a look in his eye that should have warned the girl.

Duke Winderspire joined in, "Tanya has a very fine voice." He missed the shocked expression on his wife's face and continued on. "I'm sure she can be persuaded to entertain your Majesty."

"I do hope so," Jareth purred looking down at the girl as if she were an appetizer. "Come Miss Winderspire… entertain me." Rising from her seat, the girl moved quietly toward the minstrels and requested they play a song she knew well. The Goblin King smiled as he leaned back in the seat, but even though he seemed to be focusing on Tanya he was already aware of movement about him. He could sense Daisy standing at attention just behind Sarah. He knew that Master Donatien Sade and his troupe of entertainers were stationed about the room like sentinels. He could also sense Talagon's urges fired up and Circe's blatant hatred. He raised his goblet sipping but also watching, and let his eyes find his cousin and his sweet little mortal.

Devon was listening to the song that Tanya preformed; it was true she did have a pleasing tone. He looked over at Bryn who was trying hard not to look at Sarah. He slipped his hand under the table and into one of the hidden opening of her gown. He caressed her thigh and smiled as she slightly jumped at his touch. Jareth knew that Devon and Bryn were now lovers, and for a moment he regretted what was about to happen. He didn't watch the Baron for long, not wanting to attract attention, not just yet. All his cards were not on the table, and he could not play his hand until they were.

The meal took hours to serve and devour, and the entertainments went on and on. Jareth had asked no other guest to preformed, and when Tanya was finished he had risen up and saluted her with his goblet. The girl took once more her seat at the high table trying hard not to show her embarrassment. Sarah cringed as her stomach complained at being denied sustenance. Jareth could feel the cringe and hear the complaint; he acted as though he didn't.

At the end of the meal a gifted orator was asked to speak on the virtues of the High King. Jareth had counted on the long windedness of the orator, and was not disappointed. Bored with the speech, Devon slipped his hand under the table and once more into the opening of Bryn's gown. While other eyes had gone to where the gifted speaker stood, Jareth's eyes were now watching with feral pleasure the discreet love play between his cousin and Bryn. He counted on Sarah's hunger and protective nature to kick into high gear.

Sarah noticed the angle of the King's head, her eyes swept sideways to look at what had Jareth's attention. She gasped slightly seeing Bryn being caressed discreetly by the Baron. She could feel the heat pouring off Jareth and worried he was going to do something unforgiveable. "She's spoken for," she whispered softly to the king.

"What the king giveth, the king can taketh away," Jareth answered darkly.

Sarah pulled back, blinking. Was he kidding? No, he wouldn't do that, would he? She leaned forward slightly and spoke carefully. "Their lovers." She could read Bryn's body language nearly as well as a Hobgoblin could. "You can't…"

"Silence," he ordered coldly, aware of her withdrawal and her conflicted state. He waited until the orator was finished then motioned the minstrels to begin to play dancing music. Rising he moved down the table to speak to the High Royals leaving Sarah standing at his seat feeling confused, hungry and worried.

Circe saw that Tanya was expecting the Goblin King to request the first dance. She watched as the girl's face fell upon the King's exit from the table on the dais. Jareth had not requested anyone to be his partner for the first dance as he had allowed the High Royals the honor of taking to the dance floor. He moved down among the mingling bodies to speak to some of his guests.

Circe, goblet in hand moved down the table, past the little mortal pet, toward where Tanya was seated watching her parents dance with the High Royals and some others. "Didn't ask you to dance, pity…" she murmured to Tanya as she took the seat beside her. For all the world it looked as if she were just keeping company with the pretty little Fae. "He seems distracted."

Tanya looked at the daughter of Lord Talagon with disdain. "No doubt," she pouted.

"I shouldn't be surprised if he's not already tiring of that…" Circe's eyes moved toward Sarah now looking sad and a bit lost.

Tanya's eyes moved in the direction of Sarah as well, she pouted again. "I don't see what he sees in… that."

"Easy virtue," suggested Circe looking at the younger Fae. "You know how… effortlessly they… fall into compromising positions." She pointed to Bryn. "That one entertains the Baron…but for how long?"

"Mortals don't last long," Tanya said raising her own goblet and smiling at the thought of Sarah dying off quickly.

"No, they don't," Agreed the wicked older Fae woman. "So don't worry about the creature… he did after all request you…entertain him."

"Yes," Tanya smiled wistfully. "He did."

Tanya and Circe didn't notice the Hobgoblin moving behind them, his sharp hearing having caught their entire conversation. He moved past them toward the King's _**Tagaan**__** or Rhuukarlaan**_ who was watching Jareth with edgy eyes. He didn't speak to her as he passed her but gave an eye signal to Daisy who moved down the table to answer a question being asked.

Jareth saw the movement, all the players were in place, and Sarah was primed. Painting on a lascivious smirk, he moved toward the Baron and Bryn. "Playing a little grab what you can, cousin?" he coyly asked. He slid into the seat beside Bryn draping an arm over her chair. "Having a good time, my dear?" He looked down at the girl lustily.

Both looked at him in surprise and mortification at having been caught in an indiscretion. Devon leaned forward annoyed. "What are you doing?"

"Why so surprised cousin," Jareth remarked coldly. "You've never minded sharing before."

"This is different," Devon stood up and moved to remove the King's arm from the back of the chair. "She's different."

Jareth looked at Bryn appraisingly. "Is she?"

Taking offense, Devon pulled Bryn off the seat, and shoved her behind him. "Stop it cousin, I'm serious."

"Devon please," Jareth leaned on the table mocking the man. "You don't have a serious bone in your body."

Sarah watched, frozen to the spot. No one had as of yet realized that there was a little scene being played out. She prayed the King would stop, stop now.

Devon blocked Jareth, he was beginning to forget where they were. "Jareth, I'm serious! She's different, she's not… a whore."

"She not a virgin either," Jareth pointed out standing up. "Come come, Devon…" He licked his lips suggestively. "I'll give her back after a little taste."

"I've spoken to the High King," Devon blurted out.

Bryn grabbed the sleeve of the man blocking the King. "About what?" she demanded suddenly taking a vocal stand.

"About us getting married," Devon said over his shoulder still blocking Jareth's path to the young woman.

Fae and Goblins standing near began to murmur.

'Take the bait, Sarah," Jareth sighed seeing the woman still standing on the dais. 'Take the bait!'

"You did what?" Bryn was pulling him to face her, no longer worried about Jareth. "Without speaking to me first?"

"I had to see if he'd be agreeable," Devon stammered.

Jareth began to snicker. "Asked the wrong person," he teased.

"You stay out of this," Bryn barked angrily. "You should have talked to me first!" She shoved Devon. "What if I'm not agreeable…."

"_**What if I'm not agreeable**_," Jareth interjected forcefully. "I'm the King…you're in my Kingdom… "

Sarah gripped the back of the chair; the room was a mass of confusion. Everywhere, everyone was now turning to watch and listen to the Donnybrook. She looked down at her garments, and growled, he was making a royal fool out of her! She noticed Daisy moving toward the King, as if to back him up or if need be protect him from… what, or who…Sarah didn't care. She moved back, no one seemed to notice. Slowly she edged her way to the end of the dais, and into the corridor where servants had been standing only moments ago. The passage way was clear, and Sarah moved swiftly. She didn't know the castle well, but she knew it well enough to find her way to the King's bedchamber and to where the orb with her dreams sat.


	45. Chapter 45

**Chapter 45. Escape**

Jareth from the corner of his eyes witnessed Sarah escaping. Donatien witnessed the flight also from his vantage position. Daisy pretended not to, as she was standing at the side of the Goblin King.

Devon for a moment stared at Jareth, not sure how to react to the statement, "What do you mean if you're not agreeable?" His voice rose slightly louder than he'd planned. "You gave her to me…"

"For a play thing," the haughty remark was made effortlessly.

Bryn turned to Jareth, fire in her eyes and growled. "I'm no one's…. plaything!"

Oberon and his wife began to make their way over to where the commotion was going on. Jareth counted on the chaos and the mayhem, and he knew that attacking Devon and Bryn was calculated, but necessary. "Perhaps I was too hasty in allowing you your boon."

--

There were no guards on the floor, and Sarah moved swiftly through the corridor then up the stairs to the wing that housed the King's private quarters. Most of the guards it seemed were on duty in the great hall. She expected to find Rondo in the King's quarters, when she didn't she breathed a sigh of relief. Explaining her presence in the King's rooms was not something she'd looked forward to. However as the valet seemed to be somewhere else, she was not going to worry about it.

Her stomach churned loudly as she entered the room and she grabbed her aching midsection. It had been more than half a day since she'd eaten. She felt weak, dizzy and suddenly very nauseas. There was nothing she'd have preferred to do other than sit and let the nausea pass. Her eyes adjusted quickly to the dim light in the King's chamber. She looked toward the nightstand beside the massive bed where he was fond of assaulting her. Her bare feet felt like lead weights as she moved toward the orb that was glowing and active. Hesitantly her hand reached out, she looked about the room, expecting some goblin or Rondo to pounce on her.

Drawing her hand back, Sarah bit her finger nails tensely. She was sure the King would be aware of her absence soon enough. She looked down at the garments he'd ordered her to wear. Rage filled her, how dare he? He had stolen her brother, and then her dreams, and now her self-respect! She ripped the garment from her body, knowing it had been built so that it would part from her upon the King's desire. She wished there were time to wash, but she had only so much time and not one second was to be wasted.

She moved to his armoire, opening it to look inside. His taste in clothes had changed so much since she'd first seen him. Now his dress was severe, ruthless and dangerous, much to her own shame she missed the more romantic garments he'd worn. She missed the man he had been, and the innocent girl she'd been as well. Something in the back of the closet caught her eye; she pushed the harsh dark garments he was using now out of her way. In the back, far from prying eyes was a pair of charcoal gray breeches. She pulled them from the closet and looked at them with watery eyes. He'd worn them in the tunnel, just before stealing time from her. They were slim, and looked as if they'd gotten very little wear. Behind the breeches had been a shirt, a long silky creamy white confection. Sarah pulled it from the closet, looking down she noticed a pair of boots that had been discarded and buried under a fallen cloak.

Sarah took the cloak, the boots, the breeches and the shirt. Wasting no more time, she dressed in the discarded garments of the Goblin King. The boots were a size or two too large and she stuffed some wadded linen into the tips. Once she was fully dressed she wrapped herself in the cloak and snatched the orb from its stand. Holding the glowing little orb close to her heart she closed her eyes for only one moment, as if to ground to the object holding her dreams. She took a deep breath, fighting the dizziness and moved to the door. She moved through the shadows, the orb hidden in the folds of the oversized cloak. She could hear the shouts and chaos from below.

The stairs that lead to the great hall were out of the question she decided. The corridors that lead up was also out of the question, for it would only take her to the Escher room and she had no desire to be caught there again. The shadowy hall led to a stair that seemed to be used only by the servants and it went down. Sarah decided it was the best bet for her freedom, and she moved down holding the cloak so it didn't trip her up.

--

"Why shouldn't he speak to me on such an important matter?" Oberon found himself challenging his son. "I am High King," he reminded the Goblin King.

"And I'm the Goblin King…" Jareth snapped before looking at Devon. "I asked you once where your loyalty lay… remember?"

Devon, taken aback, gasped for air and words and came up empty on all accounts. Bryn narrowed her gaze, "You asked him to choose between you and the High King?"

Oberon was also taken aback, only his wife's hand stayed him.

Jareth turned to Oberon, "Did you think it was a game? Or does the word sovereignty mean nothing to you?"

"I was wrong," Devon managed to mutter. "I shouldn't have gone to the High King." Bryn looked at him and he said softly. "I shouldn't have discussed my desire to take you as my wife with the High Court… as I've taken Goblin citizenship, my duty was to ask the Goblin King permission to wed."

Jareth would have liked to have let poor Devon off the hook, but he needed a little more time for the distraction to work. "Yes, you should have."

Circe seated beside Tanya murmured to her companion. "I wonder what all the fuss is over."

Tanya shook her head, "I don't really care." She sipped from her wine.

The minstrels had stopped playing; the dancers were no longer spinning about the floor. All eyes were now on the High King, the Goblin King and Devon. Tatiana looked about, aware of the spectacle that they had become. "Perhaps we should take this elsewhere," she suggested quietly.

Cringing on the inside, Jareth cast a haughty look her direction. "I think not," he stated coldly. "We will finish this here." He turned to Devon. "Who is your King?"

Devon swallowed the lump in his throat. "You are," he said at last in a somber tone.

"And the slaves, to whom do they belong?" Jareth looked at Bryn with what he hoped would be perceived as a lusty gaze. Her pulling back and behind Devon told him that if nothing else she understood there was danger here.

"They belong to you," Devon conceded in a dejected tone.

"Who gave this… creature to you?" Jareth demanded coldly.

"Jareth," Oberon hissed.

"You did," Devon answered.

"And if I want her _**back**_?"

Devon looked at his cousin, his King and now it would seem his rival. "I would have no… choice but to return her to … you." Bryn's hands dropped from the fabric of Devon's coat, stunned and heartbroken. She took a step back, feeling betrayed. Devon felt her pull back and knew his own heart was breaking.

The room full of guests was murmuring among themselves. Oberon was painfully aware of the subject. He turned to Jareth, "I concede I should have directed him back to you… perhaps it was my own arrogance and pride that prevented me from doing so. You are sovereign of this nation, as your cousin has taken up citizenship here, he should have discussed his desires to wed with you." He was working at being reasonable; "I apologies to the Goblin Throne."

The forced apology brought renewed murmurs from the crowd. Jareth took a moment, allowing the murmurs and the gossips to fester. Silently he prayed to Danu that Devon would forgive him what he was about to do. He stepped toward Bryn, extended a hand and said boldly. "I would have this dance," he didn't bother to address her by name, knowing his intentions were clear. Snapping his fingers, he directed the musicians to begin to play again. He needed more time, Sarah could not have possibly moved beyond the bedchamber. He watched the conflicted young Welsh woman. With a grace that few Fae women could have mustered up, she centered herself, placed her hand in his and followed him to the dance floor. She didn't look into his eyes, and for that mercy he was glad. He was not sure he could carry off the charade had she looked into his eyes.

Devon watched as they danced across the floor. Oberon quietly tried to comfort the young Baron. "This is my fault," he said softly.

"No," Devon rejected the comfort. "This is my fault." He stated firmly. "I was thinking like a Seelie… and I'm not a Seelie any longer." He looked at his uncle and winced at the pain he was causing in the High King's eyes. "I did take an oath," he looked at the pair on the floor. "If he takes her back"

"He won't…" Oberon assured the young man. "He's merely being…"

--

Sarah heard the music start up again, as she found a passage that lead downward. The passage was dark and the stairs seemed covered with a thick growth of some kind of moss. She pulled the orb from the hidden fold, using the glow to light her way. She was not sure where the path was going to lead. The only thing Sarah Williams was sure of was she was going to get as far away from the castle, the tower and the damned King as she could. The orb in her hands seemed to be getting warmer, as if it recognized her as its one true owner. She wanted nothing more than to find a way to open the blasted thing; she needed to find a method to retrieve the dreams. She was certain that there had to be someone in the Underground who could help her. The moss on the stairs seemed to get thicker, and her feet slipped on the slimy surface.

--

Jareth pulled Bryn closer, hugging her body close to his. He felt her reluctance, and resistance; she hated this. Jareth had counted on her, counted on Devon, and both had played their parts far better than he could ever have hoped for. He regretted the pain he was causing them, he promised himself to make this right with them when this was finished. Until then he had to keep up pretences. "So you enjoy games of intrigue," he teased her in an ominous and dangerous tone.

Bryn stiffened. "I don't know what you're speaking of." Her tone was brittle, and unmoving.

"He dresses you in a lover's gown," Jareth pulled her closer, the hand at the small of her back slid a bit lower, suggestively.

"Don't," she warned harshly.

"Such fire," muttered the Goblin King, knowing that many eyes were on them waiting to see what he was going to do.

Bryn was becoming aware of the gazes as well. There was something else she seemed to be aware of. Even as the King held her close, he was placing a mental barrier between them. He had obstructions and obstacles keeping her mind at bay. Bryn looked up at him, her lips parted, but she could not speak.

Jareth saw her confusion, and wished with all his heart that he could wipe the bewilderment from her eyes. He waltzed her toward a dark corner of the room, when she became aware of the direction he was traveling in; she halted the dance and pulled free.

"No," she rejected his advance even before he'd touched her. "You have one mortal already; I should think Sarah Williams would be more than enough for you."

Jareth chuckled at her reaction; "Really."

Bryn smoothed her gown, making sure all of the folds were properly closed. "Really," she snapped. "I've had enough dancing for one evening," she announced coldly. "So if you'll excuse me," she began to walk away.

Jareth gripped her upper arm with enough force that he drew a startled gasp from her lips. "You'll follow me to the shadows like a good little girl, or I'll be very public in my exploration of your gown." He growled darkly. He pulled her arm and she unwillingly followed him.

Devon who'd been watching them dance now clenched his fists at his side. "Damn him," he growled as he watched the King pull the girl with red hair into a shadow. "Damn him!" He bolted.

Jareth pushed Bryn to a wall, his lips pressed at her ear he whispered in a sinister way. "Scream." Bryn's eyes popped wide open, and she found herself obeying the suggestion. Her mouth opened and she let out a blood curdling scream.

The next few moments were a blur for Bryn, Jareth had made no other demand, nor had he taken advantage of her in any way. He kept her body pushed up hard against the wall, but made no other advances. A roar filled the air, as hands ripped Jareth away from her. She collapsed to the floor of the great hall, gasping for air. There was a scuffle, and arms and legs flinging about, and angry voices. Then goblins formed a line of defense between the King and his cousin. Jareth dabbed the corner of his lips with the cuff of his jacket. "Take them to the dungeon," he ordered. Bryn was pulled up off the floor by goblin hands, and Devon was dragged away between two very large goblin guards.

--

Sarah fell, gripping the orb so it would not fall out of her hands. She heard the sound of fabric ripping and knew the cloak had caught on something as she tumbled down the length of the moss covered stairs. Landing in a clump at the bottom of the stairs she was grateful she had not landed with her face in the moss. Down at the base of the stairs the moss was even thicker and was giving off a foul stench, not as bad as the bog, but bad enough. Weakly she picked herself up, held out the orb to try and get some kind of an idea of where the hell she'd landed.

--

Jareth ignored his father's imploring look, and marched over to where Tanya was seated. "Dance?" he asked impudently, his hand extended expectantly. Tanya blinked, rose to her feet and accepted his request.

Circe glanced about the room, wondering where her father had wandered off to. She sipped her wine and watched the myriad of faces dance by. Oberon and Tatiana looking pained beyond relief, Goblin Lords looking… utterly pleased at the discourse, and Jareth who looked absolutely delighted with the silly little ninny in his arms. Thinking of how hurtful the sight of the King waltzing the Winderspire girl must be, Circe turned to look at Sarah. Her minion Lilith's object of desire and the king's sex slave. A frown furrowed her pretty brow; the mortal girl with dark hair and green eyes was nowhere to be seen. Circe stood up and looked down the table, no Sarah. She moved to where the King had been seated during dinner with still no sign of the mortal slave.

Donatien was conversing with another goblin at the end of the dais, and seeing Circe's expression of confusion he approached. "Is there something amiss?"

"The King's… slave," she answered distractedly. "She was here a few moments ago."

"You have business with the King's slave?" Sade challenged lightly.

Circe glared at the Hobgoblin, "I was going to inspect her garment… I was thinking of having a similar one made for a slave I keep." It was a lie but she didn't think the Hobgoblin was intelligent enough to understand that. "I don't recall the King dismissing the slave," she said boldly.

Master Sade frowned; he looked about the dais and muttered some dark oath under his breath. Angrily he strode out to the dance floor and interrupted the king whispering something in his ear. Jareth, still holding Tanya tightened his jaw.

"Is something wrong?" the girl asked in a breathy voice. Things had been going so nicely for her. She was in the arms of the King and he was perhaps seeing what a perfect Queen she'd make.

"I'm afraid so," Jareth stated with remorse and disappointment. "I fear the rest of our dance will have to wait for another time," he released her hand and stepped back. "With your permission;" He bowed before striding off with the guild master speaking in harsh utterances. The female captain of the Goblin guards followed with a solemn face.

Circe watched the King exit the great hall with his Hobgoblin companion and smiled darkly. Perhaps her little Greek friend had found a way to use the limited magicks left to her. Either that or the mortal slave was more cunning than Circe had imagined.

--

Sarah found that the passage at the base of the stairs took a long and winding turn to the left. She also noticed that the passage was still going deeper into the grounds beneath the castle. The heels of the barrowed boots made a light little clicking sound on the hand hewed stones beneath her feet. Carved as if it had been scooped out of sand, the tunnel moved this way and that. The sandy walls widened and the roof of the tunnel moved upward. Soon she was moving into a long level space.

--

A gong sounded as the guards were called to the King. "She's escaped," he roared. "I don't care how!" he tossed the gong mallet aside dramatically. "_**Stop her!" the Goblin King c**__**ommanded. "Call out the guard! **__**Don't mill," Jareth told them. "Do something. She must be stopped." **_

_**The goblins milled around the chamber, screeching, "Call out the guard!" at each other. As one goblin, they all dashed for the door. **_

Donatien stood beside the king, one eye watching the reactions in the great hall. He murmured to the King. "They bought it," he sounded amused.

"Of course they did," Jareth muttered under his breath. "I'm a spoiled brat, remember?" He turned toward Captain Bookworm, "I hold you personally responsible," he said for the entire assembly of guests to hear.

Playing her part Daisy bowed her head in submission to her King; "As you should, my king." She backed away when he waved her off.

Turning to the Guild Master he growled. "It would seem her training is incomplete."

Donatien shrugged, "I am use to dealing with the creatures of the Underground my King, I warned you that the slave was not trustworthy."

"I shall beat her within an inch of her life," vowed Jareth before issuing an order. "See to my guests Master Sade, I join the hunt."

"Good hunt Sire," Donatien bowed.

--

Sarah was now several layers under the castle. The sounds from the party could no longer be heard. She had no idea where she was or how far she'd gotten. She only knew the path was opening and the tunnel wider. She was also aware of a strange rumbling sound that seemed to be coming from the very walls of the tunnel. It was oddly familiar, and disquieting. Looking behind her, she decided there was no reason to turn back. The only way she could go was… forward.


	46. Chapter 46

**Chapter 46. Unpleasant surprises**

Something about this tunnel seemed awfully familiar, and Sarah could feel her skin start to crawl. There was a scent in the air that triggered a memory, like it had happened the day before instead of years ago. Sarah stopped, looked behind her to find the passage had turned into a dead end. "Oh no," she lamented.

--

Jareth formed a single orb large enough to fill his outstretched hand. He watched her movements with the horde of goblins gathered about him. "I told you she'd head for the tunnel," he muttered.

"Won't she realize where she is?" Daisy asked looking at the orb.

"It will be too late," Jareth informed the guard. "I've seen to it that the tunnel is programmed to impede her progress. It will allow her to go forward, but only until she reaches the False Alarms." He chuckled darkly, before he looked at the blank faces about him. "Well, laugh" he commanded humorlessly. As the nervous goblins began to chuckle he looked once more into the orb. "Daisy, make it look as if you are all seeking her," he ordered over the chucking. "I want my guests to believe I'm furious, and that you are in hot water;" He nodded to her. "Talagon or his daughter or both will approach you."

"Talagon has his hands full with Lady Rosalind," the captain reported. "Last I saw them he was trying to unfasten her bodice and help himself to her bounty." She rolled her eyes.

"Remind me to replace her gown," Jareth sighed. "She'll never want to wear that one again." The goblin horde still tittered with forced laughter. Jareth sighed and looked at the Hobgoblin Captain. "Take control of these imbeciles," he tossed the orb up and it shattered into millions of flecks of glitter. "I go to remind that girl just who is King around here."

"Sire," Daisy cautioned. "Don't go off half cocked… we need both you and the _**Tagaan**__** or Rhuukarlaan**_," her voice was respectful but firm.

"I understand my duty Captain," Jareth assured the Hobgoblin woman. "You don't have to remind me."

"You're a man," Daisy shrugged; "One whom this woman has wounded in many ways… seen and unseen."

"True," Jareth agreed without lamentation or expression of grief. "However what is about to happen will punish her and bind here far better than I could ever have hoped to."

"You understand that it binds you as well?" Daisy cautioned.

"I am content and accepting," Jareth stated. Goblin eyes watched with nervous twitches the conversation between the King and the Captain. Jareth looked at the subjects for whom he was willing to sacrifice everything. "Go; seek that which cannot be found."

Daisy sighed watching the horde flee the King and head off screaming into the darkness of the Labyrinthine night. "Great, now I have to round them up," she moaned.

Jareth placed a hand on her arm before she could leave his side, "Don't bother, let them seek to and fro," he suggested. "Make it seem like you have them under control."

She bowed. "Good hunting, _**Jareth Tuatha Dé Danann Huukec Mec, Warrior King**_."

--

Devon sat on a rack looking bewildered and bemused. The Hobs that had escorted both him and Bryn to the dungeon were standing off to the side casting lots and laughing. He looked over at the young woman who looked shell shocked. "Did he touch you?"

Bryn looked over at the man; she was hugging a wall trying to keep her feet. "No," she shook her head. She had not moved from the spot since they'd been unceremoniously placed in the large space outside the dudgeon cells. She'd lost track of time, but was certain that something was as a matter of fact _**up**_.

"He didn't touch you?" Devon asked again.

"No," Bryn snapped. "He didn't touch me."

"But you screamed…." Devon stood up, for a moment it appeared he was going to step closer to the young woman.

"He told me to," she admitted. "And right then it seemed like an offer I could not refuse." The latest bout with shivers passed and she looked at the Baron with wide eyes. "He never touched me."

Devon began to pace, "Why would the King need to create such a scene?"

"Why indeed," a voice entering the dungeons asked mimicking the Baron.

Devon looked at the entry where Master Sade was strolling in calm and collected. "Donatien, what is going on? He ordered us taken to the dungeons and yet we are not imprisoned…. What is going on?"

"That explanation will have to await the King," the master stated walking past the Baron and heading toward the mortal witch. "I really must get to know you mortals better." When Bryn moved back, he smiled coldly. "I have no intentions of partaking your pleasures child. I merely wished to observe you."

"Could you do so from a distance?" she suggested. "No offense, but you give me the creeps."

Donatien offered her a wise smile before he turned to look at the Baron, "For now, I'm afraid you will both be _**guests**_ of the dungeon. We cannot have you wandering about and mucking up a well planned out campaign. The King asked me to see to your needs if you have any."

"My need is to know what is going on," Devon repeated. "Where is the King right now? Why is he not seeing to our needs personally?"

A wry smile came to the lips of the Master of the Guild. "He's tracking down his _**Tagaan**__** or Rhuukarlaan**_," Donatien looked at Bryn knowingly. "She seems to have gone… what is the mortal term he used? Ah yes, MIA during the little argument over whom the Lord Baron should have asked permission to wed the mortal witch he keeps."

Bryn gasped. "Jareth wanted a distraction so Sarah would run off? Oh that's insane."

"On the contrary my dear," the master sighed. "That's Goblin." Donatien looked amazingly pleased with himself. "And our beloved Goblin King is just that…"

"He's tracking her," Devon looked at Bryn. "What was it you read in the library; something about goblin courtships?"

Racking her memory Bryn went over passage after passage she'd read, "Tracking… courtship… oh lord," she slapped her forehead. "He's planning on mating!"

Amused by the reactions of both the Fae man and the mortal girl, the Hobgoblin snickered. "She is his equal after all," he reminded them.

"She hates him!" Bryn stormed closer to the master. "She's libel to remove his liver and eat it before his eyes!"

"You underestimate the King," Donatien purred.

"He underestimates Sarah!" Bryn roared.

"Hardly," argued the Hobgoblin with a grin. "_**Jareth Tuatha Dé Danann Huukec Mec,**_ knows exactly who and what Sarah Williams is. The real question here is does she?" He watched Bryn's facial expression shift from fury to questioning. "Sarah Williams is _**Tagaan**__** or Rhuukarlaan**_, she belongs to the King as he belongs to her. It is the will of the Labyrinth, there is no stronger will at play here." Impatiently he tapped his staff on the stone floor. "Once more the Labyrinth shall have an heir."

Shaking his head, Devon disagreed. "The law states no child born of a slave can rule," he sighed.

Once more the Master looked at the Fae man with disdain; "Whose law?"

"Whose law," Devon repeated blinking furiously. "What do you mean whose law?"

Bryn's dropping jaw made a gasping almost strangling sound; "Seelie law? Seelie laws don't count here, not now!" She looked over at the Master of the Guild. "I'm not entirely sure they ever did count."

Donatien cocked one brow upward, before looking at Devon. "Where do you live? To whom do you owe your allegiance?"

Bryn could almost pity Devon; his state of confusion was heartbreaking. "Devon," she murmured. "You don't know…"

"No one seems to have made the connections," Donatien boasted brashly. "It's as if there's been this amazing conspiracy of silence. I'm surprised that you, an outsider see it so clearly."

"What are you talking about?" demanded the Baron. "Jareth cannot go against the court…his father is the High King, he's a Royal for Goddess sake."

"He's a Goblin," Bryn groaned burying her face into her hands before she dropped her hands down at her side in capitulation.

"Goblin King," Devon corrected not nearly as gently as he'd have liked. "Goblin King."

Master Sade yawned, looked at Bryn and bored to tears instructed, "See if you can make him comprehend. My time here with you is limited, I have other duties to see to while the King is on his hunt."

Nodding, Bryn moved closer to Devon. "Devon," he was still muttering about the High King and his fears of what this was going to do to their already tumultuous relationship. "Devon," she gripped his jacket. "Who was Jareth's mother, do you remember?"

Devon stopped his prattling, stared at Bryn for a moment, "No one mentions her by name." he stated as if that answered everything. "It was a scandal how she just dropped Jareth into Oberon's lap and vanished. My own mother never speaks her name," he lamented.

Gently she touched his face. "Devon, did you ever once bother to crack open even one of the books you own?" He looked at her in scandalized astonishment. "Devon, Jareth's mother was the child of a Fae and a Hobgoblin the Hobgoblin was a King A Goblin King Devon; The last great Goblin King."

Blue eyes stared blankly for a moment before they registered what was being said. "Are you certain?" Clearing his throat, Donatien nodded. Devon's knees buckled and he collapsed onto the rack. "If truth be told," his voice shook. "I think deep down I've always known."

The Guild Master placed a hand on the shoulder of the shaken Fae. "He is still whom he has always been," his words were meant to give comfort. They did anything but.

--

The orb in her hands began to vibrate, and Sarah found she could hardly hold the object. It seemed to have developed a mind of its own suddenly. It was as if the orb had ideas of its own and didn't wish to be handled not even by Sarah. The colors swirled, turned and spun about wildly as did the images in the perfectly formed crystal sphere. Had the girl been looking at the changing walls of the tunnel rather than the orb she would not have jumped and nearly dropped the orb when she heard a loud voice cry out.

"Go no further!"

Jumping violently the girl nearly tripped and fell, she spun around but saw no one standing near her. She then shivered forcefully as she turned to look at what she already knew was there. A great mouth carved into the wall, part of a face staring at her from only a few feet away. Just beyond this face were others lining up against the walls of the twisting corridor. She would have to make it past them, and she already knew that was not going to be easy. Their loud voices were programmed by something more powerful than she was. They would shout out to put fear in her, and she was already afraid.

"Go back the way you came," the great face commanded.

"This way shall bring you only heartache," warned then next face.

"Oh do be quite," Sarah snapped at the third before he even got a word out.

"How rude," he quipped.

Sarah inched her way into the area of the tunnel with the rest of the faces, the orb in her hand now getting very hot and hard to hold onto.

"You'll be sorry," one voice echoed from where she'd started inching in.

With the passage twisting, turning and going on and on, Sarah wondered if she were really going forward or just being led in a frustrating circle. If her hands had not been full she'd have liked to have used her hands to stop out the loud voices and their warnings. She inched past each of the faces using the glowing orb to light her way in the dim passage.

"What's that you got there, girlie?" one face's eyes were moving and looking at the glowing orb. "Stolen one of the King's crystals? Not a good move," he warned.

Without thinking Sarah glared at the face and growled. "It's not his orb and I didn't steal it!"

Another of the faces ahead started laughing, "Touchy isn't she?"

"Must be feeling guilty," the one she was standing before claimed.

"Shut up!" Sarah demanded moving on.

"Not very good at disguises either, is she?" a new face asked as she approached. "Not only does she steal the King's crystal, she steals the very shirt off his back," it scoffed while it laughed loudly causing the floor to rumble.

Sarah moaned, "Please, you'll give me away…"

"You don't really think he doesn't know you're gone, do you?" snipped another face.

"She thinks she's smarter than the King," laughed another.

"Sure she does," insulted another of the faces in what was now a cavernous chamber that seemed to be encircled by the yapping faces.

Sarah looked at the orb in her hands. "I just have to figure out how to open this orb," she said aloud to herself. "Once my dreams are back where they belong… everything will be fine…."

"Fine," mocked one stone face jeeringly.

"Fine," growled another.

Sarah looked at the orb, "How do you get these things to open, I wonder?" She turned the perfect sphere in her hands, over and over. "There has to be some way to… trigger it…" She was shivering with fury and agony. Being so close to her precious hidden dreams, and yet unable to retire them fully.

Jareth licked his lips, watching her made his mouth water. He wondered if he'd ever tire of her, but doubted it. Sarah was always Sarah. She fired something deep within him that no other woman, Fae or Mortal, had ever fired. He was certain it had been lust that had drawn him to her at first, then love, ever so briefly. Now it was something more powerful, a need that was primal. He hungered for her. He had watched her progress, watched as she worked her way down to this the deepest core of the Labyrinth. Here where no other Fae had ever been, where only he and other Goblins came. Here in the soils of the kingdom… in its heart…. Here, he smiled, it was time.

Sarah, hair disheveled, face flushed with frustration and tiny beads of sweat appearing on her brow shook the orb trying desperately to force it to trigger.

"Well," a husky voice said pleasantly, "If it isn't you…" Jareth looked fiendishly handsome in the muted light of the tunnel. "And just where do you think you're going?" he asked in a sugary congenially tone. He stepped out of the crevice that had hidden his presence. "What have you there in your hands, _**duulkac**_?"

His eyes devouring her, Sarah almost like a guilty child tried to hide the bubble behind her back. "Nothing," she gasped.

"Nothing?" he mused menacingly. "Nothing tra la la?" His steps were unhurried, graceful and sinister. His body radiated a heat, and his scent filled the cavern room. "Why don't I believe you?" he asked mockingly.

Sarah looked over her shoulder, wondering if she could out run him to the next chamber or the tunnel.

"Don't trouble yourself;" he stated as he stopped his movements. He raised his hand and commanded. "Here!" The crystal in Sarah's hand behind her back wrenched free, flying swiftly at the King's command. He gloated as he held the orb for her to see. "Once more we see that there is nothing you have that I cannot take away from you."

Sarah's hands looked like claws as she lurched forward, with her hands outstretched toward the King. A snarl ripped from her throat as she lunged toward the man intent on removing his eyes and regaining the orb. Jareth left the orb floating in the air above them as he began to wrangle with the enraged female. Like tigers they fought one another, the sounds that emitted from them were primal, and rough.

"A kopek on the girl," called out a face. "I say she rips out his eyes."

"A Copper on the king," bet another of the faces.

"They're just getting started," yet another called out. "But I say the King takes all. Put me in for a farthing."

"Is that as good as you've got?" he taunted needing her to be fully incensed, and needing her essence to be aflame.

"You fucking bastard!" she growled.

"You didn't like the pretty garment I gave you?" he taunted, "Had to replace it with rags that I've discarded?" His hands easily tore the breeches turning them into rags. He was trained in the art of warfare of old, she was not, and he used his leverage to knock her from her feet. He made sure as she fell that the cloak and the rags that had once been breeches protected her tender skin from being disfigured by the jagged floor of the cavern. Her wrists were captured in his vice like grip. She screamed like a banshee, her legs still clad in his discarded old boots kicked about wildly. The leather of his armor flexed and she gasped, he bent forward, growling in her ear as he nuzzled her upper throat.

"No," her eyes opened wide, knowing he was becoming aroused. "No, not here, not here!" she begged.

"I should have taken you that first night, there in the tunnel with that dolt Hoggle watching," he answered as his teeth scraped against her skin. "You were young, but you wanted me"

"No," she denied weakly as tears burned in her eyes.

Jareth worked his way, wormlike down from her throat to the beasts that were no longer covered by the opening of his shirt. "You want me now… or at least your body does," he crooned as she shivered under him. "Don't you?"

"No," she moaned, knowing her body was once more betraying her.

She squirmed under him, only enflaming the already furnace of heat building in his loins. "Fine," he said with more ease than he felt. "I'll leave you than," his hands eased their grips on her wrists and he began to roll off her.

Sarah's freed hands shot forward, gripping his collar, "No," she begged, as the flames began to surge through her body with a ravaging heat. "Don't leave me"

Bending forward again, he growled into her ear. She arched to him, her booted legs winding over his as he began to ground his hips into her. His rumbling tremble in his throat was rewarded with a parallel rumbling from the girl. He could feel the breath in her change, it became a shallow, low pant. Her eyes were glazing over with need, and she was fully aflame. He held back looking at her coolly. "Tell me what you want, woman…."

"You," breathed Sarah darkly. "I want you."

"You'll need to be clearer than that my girl," he warned as he pretended he was going to rise.

"Take me you bastard, fuck me! Rape me… do whatever you want... But God… take me now!" she cried passionately. "Don't leave me like this… hungry and hurting…"

Jareth whispered something, his garments vanished and he lay naked perched above her. "Whatever I want?" he repeated.

"Yes," she pulled him to her. "Yes, Jareth, yes anything, everything," she felt his engorged manhood pressed close to her. "I need you." She moaned.

"Then have me," he breathed as he shoved hard, fast and deep into her. "Have all of me, Sarah."

She had expected him to be cruel; she'd expected him to be brutal and pitiless. She'd expected vindictiveness and heartlessness. She had not expected him to be satisfying and congenial. Nor had she expected him to be tender or to take his time in inflaming her passions. His hands moved over her possessively and yet more gently than ever before. In the back of her fevered brain something told her this was different. Something primal and feral in her would not allow her to sort it out, not now. Her hands lost some of the tension; they relaxed and were no longer like claws. Slowly they moved over the smooth taunt skin of the king, skimming until they moved over his rippling muscles of his chest. It had started out to be brutal, but had quickly shifted, for both of them she could tell. She lay beneath him, her body arching to his movements and her breathing echoing his. He paused, bracing on his arms, looking down at her. She read in his eyes that this moment was going to change them. Written in his eyes was more than the possessiveness of a King over a slave. It was not love, but it was perhaps more powerful. He caught her attention with his eyes and held it. She arched as she knew he wanted her to, but her eyes were locked with his. His hips moved and he was pressing deeper into her.

"Ghec duulack," he growled in the oldest of Goblin dialects, and then growled in English; "My woman, always."

"Yes," she capitulated. "Yes."

He pressed deeper. "I'll never let you go."

Sarah moaned as he moved deeper still, she could feel the King filling every inch of her. "Jareth," she breathed uneasily.

Lowering himself he pulled her even closer. "All of me, Sarah." He warned, she nodded against his shoulder as he pulled back only to shove himself deeper. She cried out as he began to quicken the pace of his thrusts. "Forever," he growled.

--

Donatien had acted as the perfect host, upon his return from the dungeons. He'd allowed the minerals to play on, watched as the Fae guests and the Goblins alike danced in gay abandon. He made note of the fact that Lady Rosalind seemed to be flirting outrageously with Talagon. He was sure she would glean information of importance. He also made sure that Circe was not given the chance to interrupt the King's spy.

It had been hours since the King's slave had gone missing, and only once or twice had a stray goblin entered the great hall. The Guild Master watched with amused eyes as some of the Fae guests cowered away from the little grotesque forms. Hobgoblin guests looked at the common goblins with amusement and a nearly affectionate expression. As if they all were party to a special little secret.

--

Jareth lay spent still cradling the woman, and still embedded within her. "We have to go back," he said in her ear.

"Must we?" she looked at him with a pained expression on her pretty face. "I can't go back into that great hall… not looking like this, and I won't wear that vile thing you had me wear."

"No, you don't have to return to the feta," he nuzzled her cheek. "I'm sending you to your tower for safe keeping." He stated gently. "I know you have no reason to, but trust me."

Sarah breathed a heavy sigh. "What are you going to do?"

"Make it look like I'm punishing you, of course." He gathered her closer. "We have reputations to uphold and standards to keep."

"Are you going to punish me?" she asked sounding a little worried.

"Of course," he murmured. "However the world need not know just how, when or why."

"Why here," she asked quietly.

"Only my magic is strong enough to reach the heart of the Labyrinth," he responded without hesitation. "What we created is between us for now… you and I and the Labyrinth. It is her will, and we will honor it."

"I understand," she murmured against his shoulder.

"Do you?" His brow rose, as he pulled back to study her face.

"You are bound to the land," she rephrased it. "You and the land… are one."

"Yes," he agreed.

"Jareth, I read the scrolls…" his fingers on her lips silenced her words.

He looked at her not with love, not with sympathy but with commanding eyes. "Do not trouble your-self," he stated softly. "Trust me, my woman."

"You ask a great deal," Sarah lamented.

"I'm not asking," he stated caressing his possession. "I'm commanding you."

"Yes, sire." She sighed lowering her eyes, veiling them with her lashes.

"Pity we must bring to an end this evenings little rendezvous," he pulled back from her. "However, you must go to the tower and I must be seen reveling with the fools in the great hall." He rolled off her gently reluctant to part with her.

"You're up to no good," she accused as she sat up. "A lot of people could get hurt."

"I'm very careful," he argued lightly.

Without thinking she grabbed his arm, "Jareth I read the scrolls," she was adamant. "You need to be a lot more than merely careful."

He looked at her, at the hand holding his arm tightly. "I assure you, Sarah," he said at last. "I know what I'm doing."

"Promise me you won't try to avenge my death…" she said in a quick after thought. Jareth looked at her, thoughtfully and she added; "I am not Queen, I am only your slave."

Taking her face into both his hands, Jareth knelt up and pressed his lips to hers. "You are my woman, my Goblin woman… don't tell me what to do." He stood up and was instantly dressed again in his fine garments and his circlet. "Come, Sarah… time to put you on ice."

She stood up, ripping the tattered remains of the breeches from her legs. "Yes, sire."

He watched, amused, "And Sarah, don't ever dress like this again."

She looked down at her scruffy appearance. "It didn't seem to bother you before, in fact I think it turned you on," she replied a bit too saucily.

One ungloved hand snaked into her hair; he pulled her to him and kissed her roughly. "Don't tempt your sovereign," he commanded in a guttural growl. "Pull in those pretty claws, kitten… Daddy has work to do."

"Daddy," she growled back into his mouth, as she felt his magic carry them out of the cavern.

Daisy stood with a griffin's reigns in her hand she bowed toward the King. She didn't speak, there was no need. Jareth turned Sarah over to her without a word, knowing for now his treasure would be safe until it was time to bait the trap that would change the future of the Kingdom. He watched as Sarah mounted the griffin behind her guard, her eyes looked at him only once. He read what was flaming in the lava green pools. Something more important to him than love, he read trust. He watched his _**Tagaan**__** or Rhuukarlaan**_ and her escort until they disappeared into the tower. He smiled, knowing the plan was working. He snapped his fingers, and his hands were clad in leather gloves. With a breath he reappeared in the chamber connected to his great hall. Vociferously he strode into the space and moved toward Tanya purposefully. "I believe this is my dance," he stated taking her hand from a young Fae lord's. "Come Tanya…" he purred. "I want to feel how warm you are."

--

Sarah removed the last of the rags, and cleaned up quietly. She could hear the sounds of the feta still taking place in the great hall. The music carried up to the tower, filling it with its splendor. Donning a long flowing robe of green silk, she wandered over to the opening she and Daisy had just entered. "Do you think Della is alright?" she asked.

"Do mean do I think she's still alive?" Daisy asked pointedly, nodding in the positive. "For now, they need her… or so they think."

"What do you mean?" Sarah looked away from the opening to her guard.

"The Harpy was part of the plot," Daisy explained. "When Talagon and his cohorts tried to destroy the kingdom the first time."

"You know it was Talagon?" she questioned.

"We know a great many things," Daisy affirmed. "However we kept our voice quiet." She joined Sarah at the window, looking down at the great hall able to see dancing bodies in the room below. "For the sake of Zoltarie's Fae Queen and the treasure she kept for us." She looked sideways at the girl who was less and less mortal. "Vengeance is best served cold, don't you agree?" Her toothy grin was dangerous.

It was matched by one on the face of the_** Tagaan**__** or Rhuukarlaan**_, "Oh yes," she agreed in a purr. "Mistakes are made in the heat of passion."

Daisy reached over, her touch didn't cause even a flinch in the girl. "You're more and more goblin; soon you'll be one of us."

Sarah looked out the window and breathed deeply. "Forever."


	47. Chapter 47

**Chapter 47. Ambush**

Duke Winderspire bent over the shoulder of the High King, "They make a fine couple do they not?"

Oberon wondered if he could let his old friend down easily. "They are both handsome children," he said diplomatically.

Winderspire took that as encouragement, but said no more. He watched as his daughter glided across the floor of the great hall gracefully in the arms of the handsome Goblin King. Donatien, watching with an amused grin moved swiftly from the spot, fearful of chuckling too loud and giving too much away. The Winderspire girl was not displeasing to look at, for a Fae she was quiet pretty. The Guild Master pondered if she'd be trainable, but dropped the thought as it was one of those that were too easy to read.

Lutin, Philo and some of the others in service gathered at the upper gallery watching the reverie below. Donatien had looked up, once, smiled and gave them the signal. Lutin quietly congratulated the others who were part of the Goblin Conspiracy to take back the Kingdom. Philo warned them not to over play their hands, nor to give their strategy away. He reminded them that the Fae were a crafty and cunning lot.

"As are we," Lutin mused. "But look at them; they don't even notice we are here."

Philo frowned, "Some notice," he was looking at the face of the Fae woman, daughter of Talagon. "She was trouble before, and she's still trouble."

"King Jareth will handle her," mused one of the Hobs as he turned to leave the gallery. "I have leather to work," he stated. "The King must be properly attired when he goes into battle."

Lutin and Philo alone were left in the gallery, side by side watching.

--

Tanya batted her lashes at the King and pouted prettily. "I thought you would never return," she said in a breathy little voice.

"Did you?" Jareth asked amused.

"I don't see why you needed to leave at all," she lamented. "After all couldn't a servant be sent to hunt down your little slave? I mean she's only human, how hard could it be to track her down?"

Jareth chuckled. "Indeed." He teased her gently. "I wasn't gone that long was I?"

"I missed you, I was enjoying our dance," she confessed forgetting protocol.

"I'm here now," he murmured moving closer. "Tanya," he breathed in her ear. "Do you think the sight of a coil would still drive you screaming into the night?" She blushed and giggled nervously. "Or do you think you'd like to feel what it's like to be the King's paramour?"

Tanya stumbled, faltering in her steps. "Paramour?" her disappointment was clear as her pretty eyes looked up at the hard eyes leering back.

He stopped dancing, looked at her with a scornful smirk; "Isn't that what you've been angling for? A chance to dance in my bed?"

"No," she gasped dropping her hands from his. "I mean, yes, but not…"

"Yes, no… which?" he purred. "I find I have a opening this evening… if you'd care to fill it."

Tanya blushed and pulled back. "Sire, that's totally inappropriate."

Enjoying her discomfort, Jareth extended a hand to her elbow, directing her toward a darkened nook off the dance floor. He knew eyes were following them, and he knew the girl was upset enough not to notice. Once he had her in the dark he pulled her into an embrace. "Come now, you know you want to."

"What I want is to be your Queen," Tanya pouted. "You already have a sex toy."

"One can never have enough toys," he purred as he nuzzled her neck and let his hands move over her to come to rest on her gown's bosom. He gave the mounds under his hands a rough squeeze, heard her gasp and then felt her hand sting as it slapped him. She huffed and shoved him away from her as she exited the dark nook. He held his cheek and laughed loud enough for the guests dancing to hear. 'Good shot, Tanya,' he thought to himself as he congratulated himself. When he emerged from the darkness a moment later, he saw the disapproval on Oberon's face. He shrugged, before he strolled over to where Circe was seated sipping from a goblet. He took a seat on the table, and relived her of the goblet which he then downed.

Circe let her eyes move toward where Tanya was seeking consolation and reassurance from her shocked mother. She looked back at Jareth with wicked eyes. "Poor little thing didn't understand the game?"

"She's young," he suggested as he handed back the goblet to the woman.

Long lashes swept down over silky cheeks. "Indeed she is." She let her gaze move down over the King, she could not resist letting herself take in his manly budge.

"Care to play?" he teased.

"As I recall," she whispered suggestively. "You didn't care for how rough I play."

"I've grown up a bit since then," he said reaching out to capture her wrist and pull her roughly to her feet. "I play a lot rougher myself now."

Circe was surprised by the gasp that had escaped her lips, and the excitement it betrayed. The fool King was indeed more interesting now, she admitted. He was no longer just a pretty face in a sea of all too pretty faces. Her heart quickened a beat, and she looked wide eyed at the expectant face of the King.

"Dance," he purred intriguingly.

"Delighted," she purred back.

--

Tanya watched in horror as Circe moved to the dance floor with Jareth. She cried bitterly into her mother's arms. The Duchess looked toward the Duke and implored him silently to do something. Winderspire looked wordlessly to the High King who was glaring at his son. He chose not to speak, fearing being a target instead of a bystander.

Donatien saw Lady Rosalind moving with Talagon toward the garden door, he chuckled softly and promised himself that he would personally reward her for her devotion to the King and the Kingdom. He snapped his fingers and more of his minions filed into the great hall, giving screening to the Goblin King as he danced with the wicked Circe.

--

Jareth had expected Circe's movement to be suggestive and sexually mature. He was not disappointed. "You're no child," he mused.

"Neither are you," she stated.

"I don't want a Fae Queen," he told her. "I don't need a wife."

Circe laughed a throaty laugh that filled the room. "Is that what sent that silly child running back to her mommy? Did you suggest she come dance in your bed?"

"I invited her," Jareth acknowledged with a wicked gleam in his eye. "She declined."

"She's a fool," Circe stated coldly. "I would never turn down an invitation of such… importance."

Jareth moved his hand from the small of her back, downward to the roundness of her womanly ___derrière_. "Being invited to be one of the king's paramours is not insulting to you?"

Icy eyes looked at where his hand had migrated to, "Not in the least," she assured him.

"Care to give your neighbor a little taste of your wine?" he said loud enough to be over heard as they spun past the Winderspire family.

Circe saw the look of shock on the Duchess' face, and the horror in the eyes of poor innocent little Tanya. "Taking a sip before you buy the bottle?"

"It may not be to my taste," he quipped guardedly.

The Fae woman felt excited beyond the point of being careful, "Would the King want me to display my… attributes for all to see?"

Delighted with the dark thought of Circe naked for all to see, Jareth smiled wickedly, "An interesting suggestion," he squeezed the fleshy roundness of her bottom, "Would you?"

"If it would please you," she murmured mysteriously with intent of exciting the man holding her.

Jareth moved forcefully, his steps guiding her to the same dark nook that Tanya had fled. She threw back her head, laughed wickedly as they disappeared into the darkness. Tanya watched, with her mouth dropping open to object. Her mother hushed her, seeing no need to make a scene.

Oberon could not believe his eyes, had his son just waltzed Circe into a shadowy nook for a bit of thrill seeking spontaneous sex? He looked with troubled eyes at his wife who was keeping her face schooled, as if nothing had happened.

Donatien was careful not to chuckle as he stood in the shadows watching the King with the harlot. He was there to protect the king if the Fae witch caught wind of his real intent. He had positioned himself as soon as the King had taken the wench to the dance floor in the prearranged position. He could clearly see and not be seen.

Jareth had paused before they entered the nook, placing on hand on Circe's bottom and patting it expectantly. She mewled as they walked side by side into the darkness, unashamedly. Jareth wore a cryptic smile, finding himself taking a strange pleasure in this little conquest. This woman was plotting his death, and he found he wanted to give her a good reason to plot his end. He crooked his fingers and stoked her face; admittedly it was beautiful, but cold and without any redeeming features. She was a self serving harlot, and he was not going to forget it. "Have I told you how lovely you look this evening?" He asked.

"You may have mentioned it upon my arrival," she mused turning her cheek into his stroke that began to move down to her throat. "However I do enjoy being told again."

His hand moved down to the draping over her bosom, "You know you're sinfully beautiful, don't you," his voice was husky with lust.

His touch was pleasant she found, "Sinfully?"

"Very," he pulled the laces behind her back and the gown slipped off her shoulders to reveal the bounty of her breasts. "Lovely," he said with a wicked smile. "Makes a man wish to be a babe, suckling."

Circe had not expected to shiver at his words, nor had she thought she'd desire to feel this fool of a man planting his lips on her skin, let alone fastening to her breast. Without hesitation she lifted one rounded mound with a hardened peak, "Care to take a sip?" she murmured intriguingly.

Donatien watched, knowing the King's plan to expose the witch to humiliation. He held his breath, praying the King could continue to play this wicked game without giving away his true intent.

The leather fingers of his glove slipped over her hand, "Don't mind if I do," he teased threateningly. His grip tightened and she lowered her hand, closing her eyes. His fingers moved to the nipple, pinching it forcefully between thumb and forefinger. She gasped loudly, and he chuckled in a sinister way. His tongue flicked out to tease the rosy tip that was now jutting upward. She shivered, over and over as he tormented her nipple before drawing it into his lips over sharp jagged edges of teeth. She let out a startled yelp as he clamped down hard and solid in an unbreakable seal. With no taking into account of its effect on the woman, he bit down. She shivered and he knew she was riding the wave of an orgasm she'd not expected but was enjoying. She was deep in the thrall of his foreplay that she'd not realized he'd maneuvered her so that she was bending backward now over the balustrade and was visible as he molested her.

Donatien turned his attention to the guests, some had seen, and had turned respectfully and discreetly away from the view of the King's sex play. Others were staring in disbelief. Swift as the current of rapids, Jareth pulled her snapping upward and clamped his mouth on hers. Her arms wound involuntarily about him as her mouth hungrily sought his. Her enthusiasm was difficult to miss as her moans and sighs carried long distance. The Master of the Guild admired his King's skills, noting how the King swept the woman away on a wave of sexual arousal only to leave her panting and awakening to wanting nothing more than pleasing him. Jareth withdrew from her, smacked his lips and murmured, "Very tasty indeed."

Demurely Circe shrugged back into the top of her gown, "Could you lace me up?" She requested turning her back to him and lifting her long locks of hair out of his way.

"Do I look like a lady's maid?" he teased as he pulled the lacing tight. He gave her rump a sound thumping smack with the flat of his hand before sliding a hand to her waist and pulling her out into the great hall once more. She had yelped a pleasing sounding squeal when his hand landed upon her back side. She giggled unrepressed as they strolled back into the public view. She didn't object as his hand moved upward from her waist and cupped her breast.

Using another passage, Donatien moved into the great hall and moved toward the pair as if he were coming from another corridor. "Sure, there's a little matter that needs your attention."

Jareth looked at Circe with an affectionate expression. "Later," he mouthed before he moved off with the Guild Master. He motioned Philo, once they were out of the great hall and Fae hearing, "Get me something to wash the taste of that bitch out of my mouth."

"Right away sire," the steward nodded.

"Be thankful her nipple was all you needed to taste," Donatien remarked dryly.

Shuddering, repulsed at the thought of a more intimate taste of Circe, Jareth glared at the Hob. "You try sucking on that witch's tits!" He spat violently. "The things I'm willing to do for this Kingdom."

Donatien snickered, "Yes, the things…"

Philo rushed to his King's side, in his hands was a bottle of mouth wash. Jareth grabbed the bottle away from him and began to down the contents and gargle loudly.

--

Tanya pulled away from her mother and stormed over toward Circe. "What are you doing?" she demanded.

"What you were too scared to," Circe taunted the girl. "Too bad, he's not half bad… you'd have enjoyed it." She turned to leave.

"You're a whore," spat the younger Fae woman for all the company to hear.

The daughter of Talagon lifted her brow as she turned to cast as disparaging look over her shoulder at the younger woman. "And you're just a want to be whore," she simpered. "Maybe next time you won't be such a scare-baby." She sauntered off allowing her back side to shake at the girl. "Take a chance Tanya, you might find it's a pleasant change from the boredom of being a good girl all the time."

Tanya knew many of the men in the room were watching Circe saunter by with lusting eyes. It surprised her to find her father was among them.

--

Devon paced the dungeon. "I wish I knew what was going on."

"I'm glad I don't know," Bryn said now comfortably seated in a gilt chair sipping a cup of tea. "I sincerely doubt I'd approve."

Devon waved the hand that a moment ago had been at his lips, "That goes without saying," he agreed.

Bryn pointed toward the entry way where movement was. "We have company."

Jareth moved forward, past his cousin with his hands extended toward Bryn. "My dear, I do hope you'll accept my apology for having been so rude in my use of you earlier."

She looked at him with apprehension and calculated what refusal would cost her. "I suppose I have little choice," she said at last while he held her hands.

Jareth gave her a wink as he agreed, "Very little," he looked over at his cousin, "None the worse for wear?"

"Disgruntled," Devon pointed out; "And a bit incensed at being odd man out."

"There was no time to warn you," Jareth stated. "The plot fell together rather quickly." He motioned them both to sit with him. "And for the sake of the Kingdom I fear I must ask you to remain guests here in the dungeon."

"Couldn't we just be under house arrest?" Devon requested in what he thought sounded like a reasonable and respectful tone.

"Unfortunately not," Jareth said in a peaceable manner. "I will however make this as pleasant and comfortable for you as I can. Donatien is going to move you to a rather secluded portion of the dungeon that few know of… I've had an apartment, a royal apartment set up there for you. And you'll be pleased to know there is even a little terrace where you can breathe fresh air." Jareth turned to Bryn, "I am sorry for the fright I gave to you, Lady Bryn… it was necessary I assure you."

"Does Sarah know she carries your child?" Bryn asked.

"She does," Jareth stood, making himself imposing.

"Does she know you're pulling out all the stops?" her voice faltered. "That you're declaring total sovereignty away from the Seelie court?"

Mismatched eyes narrowed, and judged the young human witch. "You are going to be family and for that reason alone I am allowing you to question me," he warned.

"Does she know?" Bryn stood and glared right back at him.

"She suspects," Jareth blinked.

The Welsh witch placed one hand to her hip as the other went into the king's face with a wagging finger. "Listen up fancy pants," she barked. "Anything happens to her and you're going to be sorry."

Amused Jareth smiled. "Yes ma'am." He looked at his cousin and laughed. "She's a real red head."

"Indeed," Devon placed an arm about her before contritely looking at Jareth. "Jareth, about my request to your father… it was habit."

"Devon," he placed his hand on his cousin's shoulder lightly. "I gave her to you… you want to marry her, you don't even have to ask. You are citizens of my realm."

"Pax?" the lord Baron asked.

"Pax," Jareth assured. He looked at Bryn, "He loves you, don't disappoint him."

Bryn sighed, "She was a child your majesty… she didn't know."

"She's not a child now," Jareth stated. "Go with Donatien, and don't leave until I send him or Daisy to get you. No one, I mean it, no one else has my clearance to bring you back. If someone else comes in there, do what you have to… but don't leave that apartment until I send for you." He nodded to them and watched as they went off with the Master of the Guild. Once they were safely on their way he returned to the great hall and began to bid good night to his guests.

--

Circe could not find her father, she searched high and low. Jareth found her looking about for him and greeted her with a chuckle. "Lose something?"

"My father," she said with a grimace.

"He's in the garden, thinking he's hidden in the arbor," remarked the King. "He has company." He added as the woman headed toward a door that would take her into the garden. "Lady Rosalind is allowing him some…indiscretions."

Circe pursed her lips, "It does not bother you that your one time paramour is handing out favors?"

"Rosalind is a free agent," Jareth remarked motioning for a servant to bring wine. He offered a goblet to the woman. "Free agents," he toasted.

"Free agents," she raised her goblet to her lips and sipped deeply. "Did your little play mate go home?"

"Tanya?" He looked bored, "Yes, mommy and daddy won't let her play dangerous games."

"Dangerous games are the only ones worth playing," quipped the saucy woman.

"I agree," Jareth rested his goblet on the nearest table. "Perhaps after tonight we can be" he paused. "Better neighbors."

Casting an eye toward the garden, Circe frowned. "You'll never find my father to be a good neighbor, Jareth." She sighed and looked at the King. "But I think you and I could forge a new treaty." She gave him a smoldering look; "One that benefits us both."

"I suggest we work on that goal," he simpered back. He motioned to the door where Talagon and a very disheveled Rosalind were entering by. "I bid you good night, Circe."

"And you your majesty." She curtseyed low.

Jareth nodded toward Talagon as he passed him by. Rosalind excused herself to repair the damages, and waited until Talagon and Circe had exited the castle. She then advanced on the King, "You so owe me!" she said firmly, as she ripped the gown off her and stomped on it.

Jareth watched in a pleasant lustful stupor. "You are free to remove any other article of clothing you like," he teased.

Rosalind growled, "Don't tempt me," she barked. "That bastard ruined my favorite gown. I can never wear this again!"

The Goblin King sat in one of the chairs and pulled her roughly down into his lap. "Rosey my girl," he murmured against the skin above her corset. "I'll buy you a hundred gowns, as many as you like."

She smiled, tickled by his breath. "Yes you will."

His hands moved about her waist, "I do believe you are enjoying this intrigue."

Her mind back on business her smile faded. "He has your Harpy," she said flatly. "He practically boasted to me of taking the bird right out from under your nose. He's got her locked up in a cage, and thinks he's going to turn her against your _**Tagaan**__** or Rhuukarlaan**_."

"You did well," Jareth praised her.

"There's more," she took his face into her hands. "He plans to set himself up as Goblin King, once he's set you up to kill yourself. He's found a means to make it look like you're unstable and that you've killed yourself like…" her voice trembled.

"I understand, my dear." He assured her so she didn't have to voice the rest. "I'm prepared."

Draping her arms over his shoulders she looked at him with appealing eyes. "Jareth, I know you don't want me as your queen… or even as a full time lover." She kept her tone soft and alluring. "Let me stay tonight," she asked softly. "And you can keep your gowns…"

"A sweet offer Rosalind," he replied eyeing her with lust.

"I've made no secret of my desire to be bedded by you," she murmured placing her forehead to his. "I don't even mind that I'm not the only woman who you use in that bed."

Jareth stood up, the comely Fae woman still in his arms. "I will never marry you, Rosy-posy." He took a step and when she didn't reject him or the idea of a one night stand, Jareth laughed coarsely. "Fine, wench," he growled as he strode off with her in his arms. "I'll give you the bedding you so richly deserve. You can be one of my harem girls." Rosalind laughed as he tossed her over his shoulder and soundly brought his hand down on her bottom.

--

Sarah had watched the guests leave, frowning at the sight of one last carriage. She looked at Daisy, tempted to ask. The captain of the guard didn't appear to be concerned, so Sarah walked away from the window and prayed once more that Della the Harpy would be returned safely to her. For reasons she could not fathom she missed the Harpy's insults and sass.


	48. Chapter 48

**Chapter 48. A Mousetrap **

Sitting before her vanity mirror, hands trembling as she drew her brush through the long strands, Circe pondered. Her lips were dry and her throat constricted as she thought of her behavior this evening. She'd behaved like a wonton slut, she had enjoyed the King paying court to her, far more than she'd envisioned. Even now wondered what it would have felt like to have been ravaged by the Goblin King. Even better if he had publicly ravaged her, she mused. She shook off the thoughts, finding her pulse racing. When she'd arrived at the Castle beyond the Goblin City she'd no intentions of allowing the King to take such liberty. Now basking in a pleasant glow, she thought of being with him in even more intimate surroundings. "Jareth," she whispered his name to herself.

She had listened to her father boast all the way home of his conquest of the King's one time paramour, that stupid twit Lady Rosalind. She'd heard him brag of his prowess with her as he always bragged once he'd plundered some willing female. He prided himself on being able to strut with the young studs he'd said. Said he gave her a good trouncing, even better than that fool boy king. He made some mention of perhaps taking the satisfying redhead as his mistress once they ruled the Goblin lands. More than before, Circe was sure that she didn't wish to share the throne with this oaf. He was drunk and beyond sense, and she was thankful and relieved when he stumbled off to his wing upon their arrival at home.

Her mind as she moved to her own chamber was on the Goblin King, the handsome, oh so sexy Goblin King. She had never before found him so alluring, so tantalizing, and beguiling. Before she'd always considered him a fool, until tonight; now she saw Jareth in a new and arousing light. He was rough and demanding and had caused her delicious pain. Something few lovers had ever achieved. She longed to feel more pain at his hands, and she began plotting how to rid him of the nuisance of the human sex slave, and make it look like someone else had freed her. She wondered if that fool mortal she'd made a pact with could be tempted to use a gift given her. She gave Lilith a little more thought, she wondered if there would be some way to use her to free the Goblin King of the human toy and also rid herself of that insipid daughter of Duke Winderspire. Perhaps a well placed word in the silly girl's ear would do the trick; she would give it more thought. Crawling into her bed, she allowed herself to fantasize being with Jareth.

--

Jareth smiled coyly at Rosalind who was glowing with blissful contentment beneath his rippling muscles, "Satisfied?"

"Ecstatic and over the moon," she crooned as she unwound her legs from his frame freeing him to move now that she'd achieved several thunderous climaxes.

Sitting up Jareth poured wine into a goblet and after tasting it passed it to his pleasing partner. "Good, I've a reputation that must be maintained."

Rosalind sat up, unashamed of her nakedness. "May I spend the night?" she asked coyly sipping from his chalice.

"You may," he rested back against the many pillows behind him. "It will be good practice for your role in my harem. I cannot promise you many nights of being allowed to remain in my rooms, but you may have tonight."

"A harem girl," she snickered. "How many do you intend to have?"

"_**Many**_," his hand reached out to touch her. "Human, Fae, Goblin, Elf you name it, I want it."

"Greedy," she teased.

He looked down at his still engorged manhood. "I've so much to offer, don't you agree?" he boasted. On impulse, with a giggle, Rosalind bent forward to plant a kiss on the bulbous head of the king's throbbing cock beneath the coil's cage. Jareth trapped her with his hand, keeping her face-to-cock, so to speak. "You know what I want," he insisted menacingly. "Try it Rosy, you may find it to your taste." He sneered.

Rosalind looked at the throbbing beast that had filled her lower regions with warmth. Looking then upward toward the mismatched eyes that were watching her with feral intensity, she knew there was no escaping what he wanted. Pressing her lips to the head in a chaste kiss, she allowed it a seamless entry into her mouth. Jareth had never before suggested or requested this, and she wondered if she could fit the length of him into her open mouth. She knew she'd most certainly try to.

Fluid warmth engulfed his cock like a comforting woolen blanket on a chilly night; Jareth stroked her hair, "Very nice," he praised as his fingers knotted. "Let's step it up a bit, my fine hungry wench." His hand directed her head, up, down, up, down, and up again. "That's it," he sneered. "Come on Rosy, put some heart into it. Take it deeper."

Wonton lust overcame her senses; Rosalind enthusiastically began to move up and down, sucking his cock and swirling her tongue about the head delighting in the metallic taste of the coil. She moaned and tried to hog down his cock, trying to fit every inch of his extension into her maw. Her reward was Jareth's unbridled lusty pleasure. When she'd finished, and he'd spilled his hot fluids down her throat, she pulled back and licked her lips. "That was fun," she giggled.

"You're a sexual addict," he said sipping some wine; "A very good thing for any harem girl of mine to be."

"Are you serious about keeping a harem?" she asked deftly taking the wine from him.

"Yes," he said with a chill in his tone, telling her he was not opening the subject for discussion.

"Would you accept a word of warning from a loving… subject?" she lowered the goblet, to watch him. He nodded and she continued. "Jareth, I do love you, you know that; I will ask nothing of you, and accept whatever you see fit to bestow upon me." He nodded letting her go on. "There are some among your subjects, your _**Fae**_ subjects who will not be so… loyal. If you keep a harem, they will revolt."

"They can leave," he said boldly. "My kingship and the kingdom are not dependent upon their staying. This is the Lands of the Goblin, my dear. And my Goblin subjects come first, the good of this Kingdom is for them. Any Fae or Elf or other refugee who no longer wants my protection is free to leave," he appeared completely confident. "Labyrinthia was and is a Goblin Kingdom, the Hobgoblins and the common Goblins who have been kept under heel are about to rise once more. Many who live here will have to choose sides."

"May I ask whom you intend to take as harem girls among the Fae?" she asked deep in thought.

"No," he touched her face, "it is not your concern. Whom and how many are my concern, not yours."

She put the goblet of wine aside, crawling forward to straddle him. "I know about your _**Tagaan**__** or Rhuukarlaan**_," her eyes were soft with passion. It was a confession that she dreaded making.

"What of her?" his hand moved over the Fae woman he'd known for several human lifetimes.

"I remember her, I know who she was, I remember what she did" his face hardened and he looked at her with suspicion. She continued. "More importantly I know who she is you intend to have children with her," she stated; he didn't deny it. "I'm accepting," she told him as he fondled her.

"I'm gladdened to hear that," he murmured while observing her. "As you have no say on the subject." His tone had become stern and his fingers tightened on her. "She is my chosen _**Tagaan**__** or Rhuukarlaan**_," it was more than a warning.

"Yes, yes," she agreed quickly adding, "If I could, I'd like to offer to bear you a child too," she offered without thinking it through.

Jareth leaned back, wondering and studying her closely; "Without my making you a wife or offering you a crown or position other then mistress?" He had his suspicions of most Fae women's agendas, Rosalind was no exception; "Perhaps only one of many?"

"Without benefit of marriage or crown," she professed impassioned. "For you, I'd crawl in to a pit with snakes; lord knows I've let Talagon soil me at your behest." She shook back her curls and looked at him with appealing charm. "You're a very powerful man, _**Jareth Tuatha Dé Danann Huukec Mec, Warrior King**_, you should make that harem a breeding harem," she suggested coyly."You need little ones to follow your in your shoes."

"You're a very charming woman, Rosalind," he simpered. "Do You really want my child, and are willing to be only a mistress?" His voice was serious. "Even knowing that though you are a Fae, a lady of the gentry, the _**Tagaan**__** or Rhuukarlaan**_ will carry my heir?"

"You will be a good father to all your children I think," she considered her words and looked at him with honest eyes. "I don't care that I'm not first, or that my child would not be heir."

The Goblin King smiled to himself, the Goddess was blessing him in so many ways, and only a cad would turn down such a fine gift. "Rosalind," he felt the stirrings and urges leap into his now swelling cock. "I should like to believe you're sincere there's no going back, as I'll be marking you as property of the Goblin King," he teased as he lifted her so he could once more slide within her. "Up to now you've been a free agent; I will not share you once I mark you."

Rosalind arched, "Anything you want, Jareth." She moaned as she began to gyrate on his hardened shaft.

"And you'll do what I tell you to?" he asked as he thrust upward.

"Yes," she moaned.

"When this is over, this business with Talagon, I will want you to move into a chamber here in the castle, and to submit to training by the Guild Master." His hands forced her hips down to meet his upward thrust.

"Yes, anything;" she purred melting upon the shaft shoving upward.

"I don't love you, you know," he said icily. "I care for you, but I don't love you."

"It doesn't matter," she cried out as he began to speed up his thrusts. "I love you, my king."

"You may have the child you wish for," he rolled and she was on her back, he plunged into her deeper and deeper. "I will give you one of my daughters."

"Yes," she arched and moaned, "God yes."

He leaned over her, his breath hot against her cheek, his hips pounding into her at a forceful speed. She was close; Rosalind lifted her heaving bosom spasmodically into him, grunting in her attempts to match his pace. There was no space, no air between their bodies. Jareth's medallion was the only inorganic item between the lovers. With a small about of magical effort, Jareth channeled a portion of his passion through his sign of office. Her pace quickened as she reached her zenith, never feeling the heat at her breast. As she crested the searing pain melded with the white hot spasms that coursed through her body. She cried out in release. Jareth grunted as his seed coursed violently into the woman. Steadying himself on his elbows, he pulled back and felt the medallion peel off her, leaving its pattern for the world to see.

--

Tanya had trouble sleeping, the hurtful words of Circe rung in her ears. '_**And you're just a want to be whore,'**_ She heard the words over and over. Finally she sat up in her bed, tears in her eyes and wondered if the cold cruel woman had been right. She had after all offered herself to the King in his father's own palace on Solstice. Had he not been wearing that evil looking contraption, would she have gone through with the plan to seduce the man? She had allowed her father to dangle her before the king, in an effort to make him more reasonable. She had listened to her mother's advice on how to attract him as well.

The ride home from the Goblin Palace had been a very long and silent one. Her mother had been stunned into silence by the goings on. Her father, a man who understood so much of the politics of court, had not seemed bothered by the taunting words Circe had tossed at her after coming out of the nook and looking as if she'd have been pleased to have been publicly ravaged by Jareth.

Then there was Jareth, the man was insufferable, she thought. Insufferable, arrogant, piggish and more than anything right now Tanya wanted to be used by him. She flushed, and accepted the fact that she'd been aroused by him. Even when she'd slapped him, she half way expected him to come after her, her tears were due in part to the fact that he had not. No other man, no other King would ever do. She would have to find a way to submit herself to him, even if it meant she was not asked to be queen. Lying back down on the pillows, Tanya planned on finding an excuse for taking a morning trip to the castle on the sly. She would seek him, she vowed.

--

Looking at the woman sleeping so peacefully in his bed, Jareth for one brief moment pitied her. Rosalind deserved far better than she was choosing, but as she'd committed herself to him, and he had planted his seed, and branded her, the point was now mote. She would be a good mistress, he told himself, not like Sarah, but Rosalind would be acceptable. She had such willingness when it came to sex, much like Circe only not nearly as dirty. Still he supposed he could force himself to enjoy Circe if it came right down to it. To keep peace in his Kingdom it just could come down to that. Riding himself of Talagon didn't mean he'd be rid of Circe.

He looked at the red curls spilling over the pillow beside him, and the perfect body of the Fae woman. Yes, Rosalind was going to make a very good mistress, and that pleased him. There would be many hours of pleasure to be had from her. And he could always reward her devotion with the gift of a daughter. Sons he planned to reserve for Sarah alone. He formed a crystal and focused, wondering how his other pigeons were. The image formed showing the sleepless girl, "Well, well," he commented looking into the orb.

Roused by his murmuring, Rosalind looked through her hair at the orb in the King's hand. "What's that?" she yawned.

"Tanya, pining for me," he held the orb for her to see. "I am becoming her obsession." He sounded most pleased.

"You're insatiable," she muttered before turning over to go back to sleep. "Horn-dog," She'd heard the vulgar human phrase once, and used it now for the first time.

"Yes, I am," he said looking at the girl who he'd chosen to be his next victim, his weapon in an undeclared war. "Like father, like son."

--

Jareth was sitting in a chair watching Sarah sleep; he'd been there for an hour wondering if she were ever going to wake up. The sun would soon rise and Tanya would be arriving to make her petition to him. He wanted to settle things with the_** Tagaan**__** or Rhuukarlaan**_ before the Duke's daughter arrived. When she turned over looked his direction he gave her a warm grin. She groaned and turned over again, he frowned. This could prove to be more difficult than he'd anticipated.

"Go away," she waved a hand at him. "I'm not interested," she pulled the pillow over her head in an effort to send him a message.

"I'm building a harem," he said from what he hoped would prove to be a safe distance. It wasn't the suggested way of waking one's lover up, informing her that he was giving her competition.

There was dead silence for a moment, and then from under the blanket and pillow came a low rumbling, "What?"

"I'm building a harem," he repeated carefully.

Sarah pushed back the blanket, lifted the hair off her face and out of her eyes, glaring at him as she sat up. "And you're telling me this at this ungodly hour for what reason?"

"You are my _**Tagaan**__** or Rhuukarlaan**_," he shrugged. "I thought you should know."

"You're a pig," she spat at him glaring with disgust.

"Oink," he replied.

Daisy cleared her throat; she'd been watching them from her resting place near the wall. Rather she'd watched him watching her sleep. "I need air," she whistled and vanished on the back of the griffin.

"Coward," Jareth called after her.

"She's smarter than you are," Sarah barked, still glaring at him, "Just how soon do you intend to start collecting your bevy of beauties?" Sarah didn't even try to hide the sarcasm from her tone.

Leisurely he rose from the chair and took a seat on the foot of her cot. "Last night," he stated one hand resting on her leg.

"Doesn't count," she yawned. "You already own me."

"I don't own Rosalind;" he whispered with a measure of guilt. "At least I did not until last night,"

Sarah's jaw dropped. "Lady Rosalind," she questioned with a squeaky voice; "The redhead with the big boobs and the low cut gowns, Rosalind?"

"That would be her," he sighed, finding he agreed with the description.

"Jareth everyone in this Kingdom and several others knows she's been one of your paramours for years," Sarah snarked.

"Well now she's part of my harem;" He lounged waiting for Sarah to explode. Some inner voice told him not to be so cocky but he chose not to listen as he was enjoying the banter. "And I've got her knocked up like a cheerleader."

"What makes you so sure she's knocked up?" She scratched her head, "I remember reading that Fae women have trouble conceiving; now I don't know if that's an old wives tale or true, but from the looks of things… it has a measure of truth to it. So how can you be so sure you… knocked her up?" she'd never cared for that phrase and wondered how it was Jareth had come across so vulgar a term let alone used it so easily.

Giving her a woeful smile he admitted to her, "In truth, most Fae women do have trouble conceiving," He began to look too pleased, "I however do know when I've planted seed in fertile soil." He patted her hipline with one hand, meaning he had known full well that it had been Sarah's fertile time. "It's a gift," he remarked with a tantalizing gleam in his wickedly beautiful eyes.

"That aside," she pushed his hand away, "Lady Rosalind and I do not constitute a harem. That is unless you're planning on adding Bryn to the mix after last night's little game of flirtation." She found herself still miffed at his behavior of the previous evening.

"Heavens no," he laughed, "Bryn is going to marry Devon, it's all arranged." Smiling like a tiger awaiting a human treat, he purred. "I'm adding sweet little Tanya Winderspire to the inventory today."

Sarah reached forward gripping his shirt, and roared, "Are you out of your mind? She's just a kid."

Jareth breathed in the enticing scent of his _**Tagaan**__** or Rhuukarlaan**_, "She's got several centuries on you, Sarah."

"Don't do this," Sarah begged with a panic she didn't bother to hide. "Please don't do this."

"It's out of my hands Sarah; I need her as a weapon against retaliation from the Seelie Court. She's the perfect insurance policy;" He stated as if commenting on the weather. "The Goddess has put her in my path, and I will use whatever means the Goddess gives me." He moved forward on the cot as he spoke.

"You're declaring war?" she questioned in fear. "On the Seelie Court?"

"More or less," he brushed the hair back from her face, "Wash your face," he kissed her brow, "_**Tagaan**__** or Rhuukarlaan**_."

Rising from the cot she went to do as he'd bidden and relieved herself before returning to him. "Why tell me about any of this?" She asked upon reentering the room. "What has it to do with me?"

"You're_** Tagaan**__** or Rhuukarlaan**_," he watched her move, devouring her every movement.

"Your slave of bondage, yes I know." She pouted.

Jareth began to disrobe, "You really must learn more of the nuances of the Goblin Language, Sarah." He motioned her to come to him and surprisingly enough she did without giving him a fight. He removed the fabric acting as a barrier between them, pulling her into his arms wanting to feel her breath quicken. "No other woman will ever carry that title as long as you live; it is yours and yours alone."

"Title," she mocked.

"Sarah, this tower was the lodgings of the first human _**Tagaan**__** or Rhuukarlaan**_," his body pressed her into the thin mattress upon her cot. "She was not however the first _**Tagaan**__** or Rhuukarlaan**_, only the first _**human **_one." With ease he sheathed his shaft within her. "The male heirs of the Goblin throne are born of the _**Tagaan**__** or Rhuukarlaan**_." He growled against her ear. "She is not a queen, but a captive who is considered royal. Hunted, taken prisoner, and forced to bear his touch and then his sons."

"You bastard," she began to struggle beneath him. "They'll never let you get away with this! Seelie Law…"

"They can't stop me," he laughed as he toyed with her. "You can't stop me either." He quickened his pace; knowing he only had a short time with Sarah this morning.

Trying to keep her thoughts from becoming scrambled, she focused. "The Winderspires are gentry, Jareth… they have groomed that girl to be a wife, not a paramour or mistress. The Duchess expects you to wed that little twit! You can't just treat her like a mouse and you the mouse trap. Her parents will expect you to marry her, Jareth."

"They will have to learn to live with disappointment Sarah," he crooned threateningly. "And Tanya will have her own lessons to learn. I think Donatien is going to be very busy giving those lessons."

"And Rosalind is accepting of this convoluted scheme of yours?" the green eyed girl growled. "Where is Rosalind right now?"

"She's resting," He held her still and looked into her eyes. "I gave her a little gift this morning before coming to see you. A nice little branding that proclaims her as one of my possessions." Seeing the shock and disgust on his _**Tagaan**__** or Rhuukarlaan's **_face he smiled wickedly and lifted the medallion he wore. "All the secondary players will be branded."

"Bastard," she moaned. "Don't Jareth, don't do this to Tanya… she thinks you are decent and fine… don't do this to that little girl. Don't destroy her pretty dreams the way you stole mine."

Sighing, as if giving in to her on this he spoke gently. "I'll make a bargain with you Sarah," his voice was dripping with sarcastic confidence. "If Tanya does not come here seeking me, I won't go seeking her. Should she come here, and offer herself to me, I will take her."

"If," she felt her eyes nearly pop out of their sockets as she exclaimed loudly. "With you baiting her, there's no if, she'll be here the poor sap. She doesn't understand what you're about to do to her!" Sarah's tone was goblin, not human as she spoke; "She thinks she's a Fairy Princess, that you're some kind of prince charming and are going to make her dreams come true, not pitch her into a nightmare from which there is no escape. Jareth, that's not right."

"Then it's time she learned, Sarah," sated, he pulled back from the still worried woman.

"Learn what? That Jareth the great King of the Goblins is little better than one of his subjects?"

"That life's not fair." He blew her a kiss as he moved toward the window turning to owl, not even bothering to don his clothing. Ignoring the curses flung at him by the woman he'd just ravaged. He was especially partial to her calling him a big fairy. He flew skyward, up into the last bit of darkness. Before the sun rose like a great orange sphere, he returned to his bedchamber to bathe and dress for his day. Taking into consideration the words of his _**Tagaan**__** or Rhuukarlaan**_, she was right about one thing. Tanya was under the dilution that she was going to be living a fairy tale, and that he was relegated to the role of prince charming. Knowing that, he chose to dress in a more romantic fashion for the day. Why not give the girl encouragement, even if it were subliminal. He found a deep purple colored poet shirt that would work, and breeches that were handsomely cut to show off his muscular thighs. A wide leather comber-bun belted his middle, and he donned fitted knee boots in black leather. Severe, and yet so romantic, he mused.

--


	49. Chapter 49

**Chapter 49. Miss Mouse comes a Courtin'**

Tanya sat nervously at breakfast in the Ducal palace, her mother had not taken even a breath from the moment she began her litany of grievances against the Goblin King. Thankfully she was so intent upon heaping curses on Jareth for his outlandish and disrespectful behavior that she took little notice of Tanya's state of mind or being. The Duke listened dutifully for the first half hour before his eyes glazed over and he began to shake his head in agreement by rote. He was reading from a scroll that had arrived from the Council of the Seelie Court. It seemed that the Duchess was not the only Fae in the community incensed by Jareth's behavior. Tanya stole a few sideward glances toward her father. He was as oblivious to her as he was to his wife, it seemed. That oblivion suited the girl as she made her plans.

Lowering the scroll, he cleared his throat, signaling his wife to halt her criticisms and protestations. Once she stopped sounding off he stood up and tapped the rerolled scroll against the open palm of one hand. "I have to attend an emergency session of the Council," he announced gravely.

The Duchess sat down, as if the wind had been knocked out of her sail, "Now?"

He nodded, "It looks to be a very long session indeed."

Creasing her brow with the deepening frown, the Duchess Winderspire huffed. "Well a fine time they pick. You are needed here, you must guide our daughter so she does not make the kinds of mistakes that Circe Talagon is known to make. You have a duty to her and this families reputation first!"

Duke Winderspire placed a hand on his daughter's slender shoulder. "Tanya is a good girl; she's not a bit like Circe." He placed an affectionate kiss atop her head and smiled.

Affronted by his insinuation the Duchess wheezed loudly. "I didn't say she was like Circe! Of course she's not a bit like Circe! The idea," she gathered her dressing gown closer and searched the pockets for her smelling salts. "Really my dear, how could you even think such a thought?" She moaned before dropping into a chair. "No one knows how I suffer," she wept. The Duke rolled his eyes, only making her wail all the more.

Tanya walked her father out to the foyer. "Father, really, you know better than to get her going."

"She stopped heaping curses on poor King Jareth, did she not?" He joked lightly as he hooked his arm into his daughters. "I'm sure the poor boy was just having an off day. Surrounded by Goblins day in and day out, who wouldn't have a breach in ones etiquette and behavior? And everyone knows that Circe is nothing more than a tart. Your mother should not let that bother her."

Tanya knew better, however she didn't voice her thoughts. "What is the Council meeting about?"

"Jareth," sighed the Duke. "Wonder if I can get them off subject as easy as I get your mother to get off subject? Well, I must do what I can for my old friends boy," he donned his robes of office and kissed his daughter's cheek. "Be a good child," he said before vanishing.

'What if I'm tired of being good?' she wondered to herself. She peered back into the breakfast room only to find one of the maids sympathizing with her mother. She pulled back and called out lightly, "Mother, I'm going riding." She heard the sobbing acceptance and rushed up to her room to change; fearing if she tarried her mother would start asking questions she didn't wish to answer. Ringing for her maid, the young woman requested her newest riding habit. The one she'd not worn as yet.

Mounting her winged horse she set off for a canter, unaware of the eyes that watched.

--

Shortly after leaving the grounds of the Ducal palace, Tanya used a portal to transport her as close to the Goblin castle as she dared. She had been using this same means of transportation for all the time she'd been doing business at the Goblin Palace, and her presence on Goblin soil was not seen as unusual. She rode to the gate and was greeted politely by two large Hobgoblin guards. "I've come to see the King," she said. The guards had seen her before and she hoped they would think she was there on business.

"Miss Winderspire," one of the guards took hold of her reigns. "I shall escort you to the entry."

"Thank you guard," she said as the other helped her down off the mount. She walked at his side and stood there until the door was opened by one of the footmen she'd noticed last night. She was told to wait in the entry until the steward came.

Philo walked toward her and gave her a curt bow. "Miss Winderspire."

"Good morning Master Steward," she greeted him courteously. "Do you know if the king has some time for me this morning?" She tapped a leather pouch she had thought to bring with papers for the King's signature, making her appearance look authentic.

"I will be happy to ask if he's receiving," he motioned her to follow him. "If you would not mind waiting in the solarium," he opened the door and ushered her into the room where the king was keeping rare plant specimens. She smiled sweetly as she passed him by. Closing the door Philo moved at a leisurely pace toward the King's private study. He tapped on the door and entered. "She's here."

Jareth was sitting behind his desk, looked up with an expectant grin. "What excuse is she using?"

"More papers in her leather pouch," Philo snickered. "Where would you like her delivered to?"

"I can hardly seduce her in this office, now can I? And it would seem rather odd and forward to have her escorted up to my bedchamber, wouldn't it? Besides I believe Rosalind is still up there, worn out." Jareth mused. "Where do you suggest, Philo? Where is the perfect place to bait a mousetrap?"

Philo gave the King's request a moment of thought. "I would think the pavilion in the garden by the pond. It's very secluded, and with swans swimming by…"

"Very romantic," agreed the King; "Perfect for a starry eyed Fae female. Give me five minutes to create the right ambiance and then bring her out to me," he requested as he used magic to transport himself out to the garden.

Once more Philo headed to the solarium in an unhurried step. He found the girl looking at some of the new roses the King had collected. "If you will follow me," he said clearing his throat lightly.

--

The pavilion sat on a bucolic parcel of the land that overlooked a small slope that dropped away receding to a lovely lagoon surrounded by willows whose leaves and branches dragged in the water and on the ground. The pavilion itself was nothing more than a tent really, but it was elegant in its structure and in its color. From a distance the white on white poplin of the tent seemed to be just another swan on the waters. The interior of the chamber was decorated for sight and scent. Fresh boughs of apple and peach hung from the roof rafters, their ripened fruit still attached, waiting to be plucked. Fragrant pine and vibrant holly skirted the corners, making it seem as if the cloth supported itself. Each little flutter of breeze set the fragrances of fruit and evergreen dancing to entice and please the senses.

Jareth had furnished it in a very romantic, classical style. A table was set with wine, as well as tea, sweet morsels, and tempting little finger sandwiches. He had created a throne like chair made of bentwood boughs and covered in caning on which were brocade cushions in a rich deep burgundy with hanging satin tassels. In the center of the pavilion was a double wide chaise-lounge draped in rose damask and lace. Hanging crystal orbs filled with colored oil were in place in case they were needed to 'light up' a situation. He had only just finished the decorating when he could see Tanya being escorted toward him. He called out cordially. "Good morning, Miss Winderspire, may I offer you tea?"

"Thank you Sire, tea would be lovely." She gave him a curtsey as Philo turned leaving her alone with the monarch. "I do hope you'll forgive my early appearance, but these leases do need to be signed." Keeping a pleasant expression on her face, she handed him the pouch and worried that her riding habit didn't seem fetching enough in such a quixotic setting.

"Very thoughtful of you to deliver them with such speed," Jareth passed her a cup of tea and motioned her to be seated, as he took his seat in the chair forcing her to sit on the chaise lounge. He pretended to read over the papers, already knowing they were in order. He observed her working to get her nerve up to speak to him. He could see how much she appreciated the atmosphere, and how she was preening, so he could see how well she fit in with the surroundings. "I see all is in order here," slipping the parchments back in the valise before placing it beside his chair. "I shall be happy to sign them as soon as we've had our tea."

"Of course," she whispered, her fingers trembling lightly as she brought the tea cup to her lips. "This is a lovely spot, I had no idea that your kingdom including such beauty. Do you come here often?"

"There are many places of such splendor in the Kingdom, this is but one," he'd seen the tremor, and suppressed the smile that was playing at the corner of his lips. "I come here as often as my schedule allows me to." She was hardly going to throw herself at him if he were laughing in her face, he deemed. "I do hope you enjoyed the gala yesterday." He kept the small talk going, knowing this girl was bred for court life and its ways.

"Most of it," she prevaricated from behind her tea cup.

"I'm not going to apologies," he teased easily, sipping his own cup of tea. His hands were steady, and his breathing uninhibited.

"Apologies?" she repeated placing her cup and saucer down on the table, her hands too shaky to hold it any longer without spilling.

Giving her one of his own wicked smiles, Jareth chuckled deviously. "For the nook," he pressed the taunt gently. "You're far too attractive sometimes; last night was one of them."

Tanya blushed at his referral. "I don't know if I should thank you or slap you," she confessed.

Placing a hand to the cheek her hand had struck the night before he teased. "Thank me; I do believe you've already slapped me."

"I wish I could apologize for that action, Sire, but you would not understand my position..." she stammered trying to reason her way out of the corner he was waltzing her into with words.

"And again today," Jareth interrupted her, "That outfit you've on now is perfect for you. The cut, the color; that shade just shows off how incomparable your eyes truly are. Forget-me-not blue, is it not? Tanya no one could forget you," he purred.

"Thank you, Sire." Tanya blushes more deeply.

"And that rose that is flourishing your cheeks now," Jareth cocked his head to one side, his eyes becoming feral. He knew there was a sexual connotation to his tone now, and wanted her to feel his rising arousal if only conversationally.

"Please, sir!"

"What is it, Tanya? Is it all too much? I simply can't help myself. Perhaps you could help me. If I were to assist you out of that outfit, then I'd have only your natural beauty to compare to nature with."

Nervously she fidgeted. "Yes, well~" She stood up, wishing now she'd just let sleeping dogs lie. This game was a little hotter than she'd anticipated, no matter what she'd thought in the privacy of her own boudoir.

Jareth stood up as well and sought out her eyes, "I'm offering to~ kiss and makeup." He needed to make eye contact, to show his 'sincerity'

The words caught in her throat as she looked at him, was that what he'd been offering? She watched as he closed the space between them. One of his gloved hands came up to cup her chin, raising it as he lowered his lips to hers. The sensation of his lips on hers filled her with electric excitement and she gasped under the pressure of his lingering mouth. She looked at him with startled awe. The hand that had cupped her chin now moved to the back of her head as the king again lowered his lips to hers. Before they touched she snapped to attention and pulled away.

"Is our truce over so soon," Jareth teased.

"No, it's not that," she stammered nervously. "Oh, I shouldn't have come here!" She exclaimed.

Reaching for her hands Jareth prevented her flight. "I glad you did come." He moved his hands up her arms, her hands resting on his wrists. "We should get to know one another better."

Tanya's doe eyes turned downcast, she picked and played with the lace at his sleeve, avoiding those eyes that no one could resist. "You accused me of being window dressing once," she reminded him. "You said that what went on at your court was not for good little girls." Her hands held in the King's she was trapped in her own webbing. "You've warned me over and over."

"I recall," he admitted trying not to sound gloating.

She turned her eyes upward. "You were right," she whispered. "I'm playing a game I don't really seem understand."

'Sarah read you right,' he mused to himself. 'Nevertheless like a mouse you're in the maze and here you shall stay with the big bad tom cat waiting to pounce.' Turning ever so slightly he drew her closer to the chaise, drawing her to sit beside him; "And yet you are here. You must have had reason beside those papers," he suggested softly.

Tanya's eyes squeezed shut. "I'm so ashamed," she groaned, and then poured out her soul to him. "You were right about me; I'm not what I've pretended to be…. My mother said that if I were move visible, more tantalizing… you'd see that I would make you the perfect Queen." He listened, already having a pretty fair idea of the Duchesses intentions, keeping his features schooled. "But you didn't seem to notice, not once did you as much as invite me to take tea."

"We've just had tea," he said softly, his lips at her ear; "Now perhaps something sweet to follow." Placing one hand behind her back, he moved closer to nuzzle her. She sprang from the chaise, and was surprised when he quickly followed and pulled her brusquely back against him. Thwarting her fleeing the pavilion with his touch.

Her eyes went downward, looking at the ground demurely. "I cannot do this. I thought I could but I cannot," she groaned thinking of what was hidden by his breeches. "Please Sire, let me go."

"Tanya," he used her name decisively making her focus her attention on his voice instead of the object of her fears. "Why are you afraid of me?"

She quivered in his embrace. "Because of that thing you wear." Her voice was a low husky whisper.

"You could face your fears," he encouraged. "You once offered to be my willing student." He let his hands move over her, up her shoulders and down her arms.

"You turned me down, as I recollect," she shivered under his touch.

"Tanya," he murmured turning her to face him. He looked at her with smoldering eyes. "Am I really so very frightening?" He reached up, cupping her face between two gentle hands as he lowered his face to hers. His lips brushed hers as soft as butterfly wings. He kept the kiss gentle and short.

"I've never really done anything like this," she confessed in a haunted tone.

Continuing to cup her face in his hands, he breathed on her face. "Tanya, what is it you want," she looked up, lips parted eyes hungry. "You've told me over and over what your mother wants, what she expects. What do you want?"

A long deep tremor passed through her. "To know what it feels like," she declared. "Being with you," her doe eyes burned with yearning.

Giving her an alluring and tempting grin, he reached up and unfastened the pins that held her riding bonnet and its flowing veil upon the top of her head. Freeing her from the bonnet allowed the long titian locks to fall uncontrolled over her shoulders. Without looking, he tossed the bonnet aside, out of the pavilion out onto the lawn. "Much better," he mused as he reached for one unbound strand that was coiling at the side of her lovely face. When his fingers were working the coil to wind between thumb and forefinger he saw her tremble again. "Has no one ever made love to you?"

Startled and a little offended her face turned pink and she pouted. "Of course not," she gasped. "I've always been a good girl."

His fingers abandoned the coil of curls and moved to stroke her soft cheek. "Was it a good girl who came to my bedchamber?" Tanya blushed. "Or was it a woman, hungry for my touch?" Quivers answered his quires; he purred deep back in his throat again as he took her lips once more. This time her hands moved hesitantly forward, reaching for his slender waist. She began to respond to his kiss more readily and he moved his hands from her cheek down her back pulling her closer. He broke off and looked at her expectantly. "Was that so very frightening?"

"No," she mewled.

Wordlessly he moved his hands forward, taking hold of her lapels of her jacket before chuckling softly and unfastening the buttons. She gasped but it was too late, he'd opened the blue jacket and was tugging it off her. Once he had it free he tossed it the same direction as the bonnet, knowing it would land close enough to it to be quite picturesque. At the last moment the girl reached out for the jacket but he blocked her. "Let it be," he commanded softly. "See how appealing it looks there?"

Tanya, a court trained Fae, had never had even one romance. She looked at Jareth, and while one part of her brain was ordering her to flee, another part told her to relax and have some fun for once. She looked at the bonnet and the jacket and had to agree. "They do look picturesque there."

He had expected more of a fight, but then he'd taken into account how brazenly the girl had behaved in the few years he had to do business with her. "Come sit with me," he invited. "Let us be comfortable." She didn't give him a fight, but followed bashfully hiding her face in his shoulder.

--

Circe felt her jaw tighten; she clenched her hands digging nails into the soft flesh of her palms. She steeled herself to continue watching the man with the ninny of a girl. She could not fathom Jareth wasting time on the twit. Not when there were other more experienced women of the courts who could easily answer the needs he was feeding.

--

Tanya once more sat demurely on the damask swathed chaise. "Sire," she kept her tone respectful and just breathy enough to impress upon him her youth. "I've never…"

"I know," he assured her as he took his seat, embracing her before slating his lips to hers once more. He heard her murmur, and groan in the back of her throat. Long ago experience had taught him the signs that a woman was ready to take the flirtations further; Tanya was showing him all those signs. He kept reminding himself that she was expecting this to be romantic and dreamy. She was not experienced like Rosalind nor was she jaded like Circe; she was in truth just a kid. Just as Sarah had proclaimed a few hours ago, however kid or not, he needed to secure her as a possession if he were to hold the Seelie court at bay.

Tempting her with kisses was not going to be enough, and much as he hated to put the gullible girl in such a position, she was here. Moving from her willing lips to her neck, he began to nibble on her long slender throat. The hand that had been at her waist, migrated its way up unfastening the buttons of her silky blouse on its way up. Snakelike sipping into the fabric until his hand rested on the breast that covered her heart. Feeling her heart pounding just beneath the satin corset she was wearing he paused. "You taste like nectar," he uttered before pressing his lips to the swelling mound that he'd been caressing a moment before. With very little coaxing he worked the nipple of her left breast above the lace that decorated the undergarment that he fully planed to discard onto the lawn along with the rest of her garments. She shivered and moaned as he took the hardened little bud into his mouth to tease and torment. A moment later the blouse was gone, sent to the lawn. Her skirt followed and he pulled his shirt off before while pushing her backward onto the chaise, his leg pressing to open her knee. He had one hand gathering the skirting of her slip giving him access to her.

"Sire," she gasped as his hand skimmed up her velvety leg.

Nuzzling her neck so he would not have to look her in the eye, he purred. "I think you should call me Jareth, Tanya."

"Jareth, don't," she begged modestly. "I really can't…"

"Of course you can, sweetheart," he encouraged her to be submissive. "We both know you want to. WE both know that this is why you came here…" she whimpered and he added courtly, "There's no audience here to make you self conscious. Just you and I," he gentled his manner and tone. "I shall take every care, Tanya… Knowing this is your first time."

"You won't be disappointed?"

Working not to laugh in her face, he kept his lips to her ear, "How could any man be disappointed in being first with you?"

--

Clenching her fists, the enraged Circe turned her back on the scene playing out before her astonished eyes. How could he be seducing that twit? Surely she'd far too tame after his romp in the nook with Circe herself. The longer she lingered, watching the King seduce the willing maid, the angrier and bitterer Circe became. Those hungry lips should be searching her body, not Tonya's!

Turning from the sight, she stalked off toward a clearing where she could discreetly open a portal to the mortal realm. There she would seek out the help of a mortal, one who could give her the means by which to destroy both the mortal pet of the Goblin King and his latest conquest, the sweet little Miss Winderspire.

--

Lilith sat with her arms hugging her knees up in her chest. She rocked to and fro, whispering the same mantra she'd been chanting since her husband had delivered her to this institution. "Circe, come aid me." Her eyes were blank, no fire, and no lust for life.

Circe followed the essence of the girl, being of the magical communion her body gave off a distinctive indicator. She stilled time as she entered the undersized cramped cell the girl was occupying. She didn't seem to see, or feel the presences of the Fae woman; she just rocked and chanted in a painful plea. The Fae woman stepped closer, sensing a strangely off chemical odor attached to Lilith. Instantly she understood, the girl was drugged, and mindless numb in her chanting.

Knowing that the girl could not give her what she needed in this state, she called forth a brew that would purge the chemicals from the girls being and clear her mind. "Take and drink," she ordered steadfastly in a powerful voice. The girl opened, and opened her mouth to accept the drought that Circe had created. Within a few moments Circe could see the dazed glaze in the girls eyes lift. Her breathing became more normal and her scent was clear of the chemicals. Setting the cup aside, she questioned Lilith.

"The girl the King of the Goblins keeps as a pet, who is she?"

"Sarah, Sarah Williams…" Lilith answered softly, her tortured mind still a bit confused. "He took her away…"

Circe put on her most concerned face, and stroked the face of the girl who was becoming cognoscente. "What is it on this side of the veil that Sarah loves most?"

"Toby," Lilith licked her dry lips, and her raspy voice repeated. "Toby, her brother…. She would risk her life and commit murder for the boy…." She then laughed, "I watched her torture a man who had put him in danger, and it was glorious."

Thinking perhaps she'd underestimated the King's pet, Circe asked. "Did she kill this man?"

"No," Lilith sighed.

"Where could I find him if I needed to?" Circe removed her hand from Lilith's face.

"He's here," Lilith breathed deeply. "He is called, _**Daryl Daniels**_, he's a doctor…He tortured us in the school we were sent to…. Sarah would not break, and he set out to destroy her, but only destroyed himself." She looked at Circe, with eyes clearing of the glaze. "He went after Toby, and Sarah put him on trial, a private tribunal. We found him guilty of his crimes and sentenced him…. We pumped him full of the very drugs he'd been pushing us to take." She laughed low in the back of her throat. "They keep him here, mostly in a cell smaller than this."

"I see," Circe moved to where she'd placed the cup. "Perhaps it's time to free the demon and set the bitch upon him." She looked at the Greek girl who was now coming to her senses. "You've severed me well, little Greek… however this is the last you will see of me."

Lilith stood up, "No, don't leave me here," she begged. "I'll die if you leave me here."

"Then you will die," Circe said without any compassion. "You've severed your purpose."

Lilith screamed out as the Fae vanished, leaving her in the cramped cell with a clear mind.

--

Daryl Daniels was indeed in a cell, small if possible than that of the Greek girl. He was bound, tied in a white leather straight jacket. Circe, still manipulating time, entered the cell. Tugging his head back by the hair on his head she poured just enough of the potion she'd created down his throat to make him manageable. As his eyes began to clear she asked at his ear, "Care to get a bit of vengeances?"A cruel look of pleasure filled his hateful eyes. Standing back the Fae woman commanded. "Come with me." Daniels rose to his feet; the confining jacket fell at his feet. His face was twisted with heinous delight.

--

Tanya clung to Jareth breathing deeply and basking in what she thought was the afterglow of first love. "I never dreamed," she whispered breathily.

Jareth let her cling, knowing she was thinking that they had taken the first steps toward the altar. "It was as I expected," he muttered softly in her ear. "And I am pleased."

"Oh Jareth," she crooned. "I'm so happy."

'Of course you are,' he smiled but kept his thoughts closeted. "As am I," he kissed her forehead.

Looking up, and seeing how high the sun had risen in the sky she sighed. "I must go soon… it would not due for them to look for me where I cannot be found." She blushed. "I told my mother I was going for a ride," she explained.

"And a ride was taken," he teased lightly, enjoying her blush. "I shall let you go, for now." His fingers traced the identifying mark his amulet had left above her heart. "Soon there will come a day when I shall not be so generous."

Tanya, unaware that Rosalind bore the same mark, looked down at what she believed was a private thing between her and the Goblin King. "I look forward to that day," she added softly. "My darling." Then she slipped from the bed and began to gather her garments and dressed while the King watched her from the chaise. "When should I come again?"

"Tomorrow," Jareth said with a sly smile. "Come to me tomorrow."

She placed the bonnet back upon her head and giggling gave him a curtsey and ran off. Once her back was to him, he let the smile drop. He sat up and flicked his wrist; his garments instantly were back on in proper order. Waiting just long enough to be sure she was beyond his boarders, the Goblin King rose from the chaise lounge and exited the pavilion. He strolled toward the castle, encountering Donatien as he made his way toward his citadel.

"Is all as it should be Sire?" the Master of the Guild inquired.

"What I won't do for this Kingdom," growled the King feeling unfulfilled. He passed the other and headed toward his tower.

"Where are you going?" Donatien asked holding a ledger out to the man. "WE have work before us, Sire."

"Work will wait," Jareth said hotly. "I need a workout, that girl I've just taken is about as thrilling as a lecture by one of the old Fae…. I need Sarah…. Then, and only then will I be ready for work." He transformed to owl and flew in the direction of the tower.

Donatien lowered the ledger, "Indeed." He smirked as he walked toward the garden at the base of the tower to await his soon to be wife. When moments later Daisy joined him he asked easily. "Did she greet him lovingly?"

"She threw a chair at him," Daisy laughed.

"Hit or miss?" Asked the man looking at the mixed breed Hobgoblin woman with hungry eyes.

"Oh she hit, and if anything it fired him more," Reported the happy woman.

Donatien invited her to take a seat on the garden wall beside him. "They become more and more goblin, do they not?"

"Yes," agreed the woman. "Thank the gods."

Placing a hand on hers, he asked. "Do you find the wait grueling?"

"I do," she admitted. "I long to be the one flinging chairs…"

"Soon," he comforted his bride to be amid the sounds of fury that drifted down from the tower room.


	50. Chapter 50

**Chapter 50. The Rape of Talagon**

***Disclaimer***

**This chapter contains bondage, torture, rape, sodomy, disembowelment, dismemberment, emasculation, cannibalism, blood, gore, and interspecies sex. If any of this offends you, don't read past the comments about ornamentation**.

******

The sun had not yet risen like a fiery ball with blinding light over the fortress home of Lord Talagon. Already the servants of the fortress had been up and working for hours. Upon seeing the master of the house up and about, the few who met with his presence had the forethought to avert their eyes so as not to meet his gaze. Those who knew him knew he'd not retired to his bed as yet. The last thing any seasoned servant in this employ wanted was to be noticed, for abuse always followed.

Talagon entered the room he arranged for his unappreciative 'guest'. Aware of the rumored legendary strength of harpies, he took no chances when he moved Della up from the cage in the cellar. The standard lightweight pine door was replaced with a heavy oak door re-enforced with spruce crossbeams. A slight gesture with his wrist over the doorknob assured their privacy. Another flick of his free hand set the high placed wall sconces aflame. He was not fool enough to grant a taste of freedom to the winged wench. Prior to her capture, Talagon had the masons in to block in the large windows that normally afforded the room with natural light. It would take an ogre to break out of this room now. The capture and training of a harpy was a long, planned out step in the process of his conquest of the goblin-held lands. The fact that his trap ensnared the King's own guard was pure icing on the cake. Icing he would happily lick off his own fingers.

He took a long sip from the goblet he was holding as he watched his captive regain consciousness. The harpy wasn't his preference as far as females went. True, her bosom was still full and sat high on her ribcage, but that was about it. Like most of her species, this one's face was harsh beneath the tangled bramble of long black hair and her figure was far too gaunt for his liking. Granted, he had a hand in the state of her condition, for which he held no regrets, but then seducing a harpy was not in the original plans. Now, after a successful soirée with the Lady Rosalind, Talagon thought that perhaps there should be a slight addition to the plans. He leered at the winged female, wondering if she were too weak to be~ interesting.

He took another taste of the mead, pushing aside the wince that his throbbing head wanted to inflict upon his features. He kept his face schooled, the cynical mask most Fae wore at any Seelie court event. It would not do to show his hand to this creature~ here no one had the upper hand on the Fae. He watched as Della stirred on the straw pallet that she shredded and rearranged to be more of a mound than a mattress. Sparkling jet eyes regarded him from the floor. He marveled that even now her eyes could be so intense and violent in their feral gaze.

"Isn't it a bit early for you." She crinkled her nose, imperceptivity reading his scent.

"It's earlier than you think. I've had a bit of a late night at your former employer's expense." He enunciated carefully, making sure not to slur a syllable.

Della sat up from her makeshift nest and stretched out her wings, one of which caught on the chain that linked her neck to the wall. The old fool was wagging its tongue again. She would have to suffer through his pompousness for yet another day. She doubted that he would let her out on a tether today, in his attempts to 'train' her. "I meant the mead."

Talagon watched; the awe at the magnificence of her wings carefully concealed from his face. "Oh, this," Talagon shrugged and looked at his goblet as if for the first time realizing what it contained. "A bit of a tonic for my indulgences." The harpy continued stretching, as if unaware of the audience she had. "It was quite the event. I understand that the King's Tagaan made a run for her freedom." He chuckled maliciously.

Still stretching her legs, she maintained a jack-knife position. It had the desired effect of drawing her observer's eyes along the line of her strong thighs and away from her obscured face. "And?"

"Tut, tut, my dove of destruction," he teased. "Why so concerned over something that you are no longer responsible for?"

Della seethed. If it was a sex slave he wanted…"You shall pay for this, Talagon." Her body was tense with her aggression, but she did not lunge at him. She stood at the end of her restraints, her self-control at its limits with the chains that were around her wrists and neck.

"What? You think I had something to do with that?" He asked in a mockingly astounded tone. "I was merely a guest at a party. Nothing more last night. Now, be a calm birdie so I may grant you something to eat."

At this, Della stepped back, letting her chains go slack. Yes, he thought to himself, she was no more intelligent than an animal that could be trained with food for good behavior. He must remember to tell Chef to set aside some fresh guts for his 'guest'. He repressed a shudder realizing her preferences. "But on a different night," he paused to sip at his drink as he paced around her, "A much different night, not too far in the future…" Della cocked her head to one side, giving him a disbelieving expression, a silent challenge. He snickered at her as if he had heard a funny story. "It's not so impossible, bird," he taunted. "After all, history does repeat itself."

Playing dumb for a moment, to get a better reading of his intent and his exact physical condition she asked. "History?" as if she could not possibly know what he spoke of. It was for moments like this that Della remained in this fortress—for tidbits of information of what King Jareth's enemy had planned. Never before has he offered so much as a reason for her capture. Now with the sweet wine and his ego loosening his tongue, she baited him further for more story. "History?" If things were to come around full circle, then she already knew the outcome. Matron made sure she was aware of that. She was already contrite in her participation in the repeat of history a few months ago. She just might have the opportunity to twist things around to the Goblin King's favor, if she could just hold her fury in check to hear more of the story…

"Yes, history," he gave her the indolent answer wondering to himself just how much these creatures could comprehend and maintain. "A subject that is of great interest to me and some of my former associates." He heaved a heavy sigh, sipped the brew and began to expound, enjoying the sound of his voice echoing in the chamber. "Long ago, too long for one with your limited mental capacity to comprehend, there was another human Tagaan." He laughed to himself, remembering those days. "I had just recently been awarded these lands by Oberon, and found myself the reluctant neighbor of a Goblin ruffian who was boasting the prize of a mortal female. A love slave," he snickered. "As if a mortal could ever love a goblin." He laughed out loud now, harshly.

Della shrugged as if this information was of little interest to her.

"This Zoltarie," Talagon went on, somewhat taken with the telling of the tale, "Boasted and paraded this creature for one and all to see. She was in all ways his weakness." he shuddered. "Vile, really. I'm not even sure what was worse, the Goblin or the Mortal." In his mind's eye, he could see them, the Hobgoblin that ruled the kingdom of the Labyrinth with its myriad of creatures, goblin and other. Zoltarie was pure Hobgoblin, and in his own way rather an eye-catching and striking being. Not Fae Beautiful by any standard, but handsome in a primal and feral sort of way. Even the High King of the Fae seemed to be impressed by him and had made an effort to sign an accord with him. But then, it was well known that Oberon desired peace among the Underground Kingdoms. Zoltarie had been trained to be king of his people, his goblin people. He was violent, untamed, and extremely calculating~ a born leader of warlike creatures.

"Zoltarie," growled the Fae, now remembering the Hobgoblin's part in saving the Underground. "And his dirty bands of marauding goblins," the words were bitingly bitter. "If he'd kept his nose out of Fae business, we'd have far more land to our credit than we have now." More mead was poured into his mouth from the cup. "But no, the Hobgoblin had to go and play hero. Raiding the mortal realm for the needs of this one, causing even Avalon to owe him a debt," turning to the harpy, he gave a curt laugh. "One that was paid when the High King overlooked the little raid that captured the human Tagaan." He wiped the spittle that came out of his mouth on his sleeve. "A tasty little morsel if somewhat primitive, and covered in mortal filth."

Della had seen the drawings in the rookery, but kept that from the ranting Fae Lord.

"Zoltarie became besotted," he jeered. "That leggy little mortal female became his weak spot. He began to overlook his other women, including the little Fae creature who'd been awarded to him as a wife by the High King himself. Damned if I can recall her name," he muttered with a slight swagger. "The only thing that seemed to matter to the Goblin was that mortal, torturing her until she was broken," he snarled. "Why else would she refuse rescue?"

"Rescue?" repeated the harpy. Now the story was getting interesting.

"We offered her freedom, a chance to return to her own realm… and she refused us." One hand turned into a clenched fist. "Refused me," he corrected darkly. "Had it not been for the harpy guard's love of goat `meat," he chuckled, looking at what he took to be a dim witted harpy who'd fallen for the same bait. "Can always count on your animal instincts, can't we?"

Della watched, sensing he was becoming inebriated once more, more than just having a bit of the hair of the dog that had bit him. "You drugged the goat," she muttered.

Strutting now like a prideful peacock, he nodded. "Of course, and once we had the harpy out of the way, we swooped down upon the tower taking the bitch out the King's reach." He licked his lips. "After we rewarded ourselves," he recalled the gang rape of the Goblin's prized possession, "we needed to destroy the evidence," the screams of the human as she was allowed to fall to her death from the airborne backs of flying horses filled his ears once more. Finding the carcass was, I'm told, what sent that fool Zoltarie over the edge into the abyss of madness. His howling and gnashing of teeth could be heard for miles about. The wife he had tricked the High King into giving him fled for her life, never to be heard of again." His pleasure at the misfortune of the king was making him intoxicated with its memory. "He wandered about his kingdom at a loss for some months. He forgot his duties, an even ignored the summons. Shunning company and refusing to take nourishment. He vanished from the view of all, and was found dead in the caverns below his precious Labyrinth," Talagon growled suddenly angry. "That was when the first insults from the royal courts of Avalon came. When they gave what should by rights have been mine to fools who called themselves Goblin King." He breathed heavily, huffing and puffing as he spoke. "I had been granted these lands, flanking those of the Goblin, and by rights the lands of the Labyrinth should have gone to me! Had I been higher up in the royal caste, the Kingdom of the Labyrinth would have been given to me," he was bitter again. "As it will be this time, for once more a harpy guard has failed The Goblin King, and the Tagaan is once more vulnerable." His laugh was more of a cackle. "I wonder if this one will be as much fun as the last. Will her death screams be as pleasing to my ears?"

Della stared at the crowing old Fae Lord. If she were to strike, now would be the time. The old fool's reflexes were dulled with drink and he was still riding the high of is own ego. Besides, she had heard one too many insults to bear.

Although she felt light-headed from hunger, survival instincts older than the fortress she was imprisoned in drove her on. She was no stranger to hunger; Della was hatched during the early part of Jareth's reign over the Labyrinth while he still followed the edict of the Seelie Court. She was born into the lean times of the flock, when the now elders of the flock were still breeding. Her body was used to being wiry ropes of muscle and sinew connecting to bone, but now she was entering adulthood and the drive to pass along her heritage was overriding her need to live. Right now, her instinct wasn't crying out for food--it was crying out for seed.

Talagon's worst mistake in taking a harpy was the belief that he could tame her. Harpies cannot ever be tamed for they will bite the hand that attempts to feed them--literally. He looked at her, eyes slightly glassy from his wine. "And you will carry me up to the tower, so I may take a taste of what belongs only to your king. For that purpose, I've adorned you with such pretty chains."

He watched in amazement as she wriggled a finger beneath her collar. "I was never one for much adornment, m'lord," Della's voice grated against the respectful title, giving it a sinister sound. "In fact, I find that they just weigh me down."

With that, the dull, grey band that encircled her neck snapped open underneath the pressure from her finger. With a snarl, she lunged at her captor; arms extended, and pulled the chains free from their moorings in the stone wall. The force of the lunge was increased now that she was not hindered by her shackles.

Talagon gasped more from shock that Della attacked him than from having the wind knocked out of his lungs. The idea that someone, some creature, would attack a member of his species with such ferocity was incomprehensible. He was not prepared for her rush, nor were his reflexes sharp enough to deflect it with magic.

The precious metal goblet he was holding crashed against stone floor, splaying mead across the wall, as the pair fell to the ground. Della, dragging chains from her wrists, straddled the Fae, pinning his arms down with her knees.

"Fool though you may be, you're not fool enough to use iron for my shackles," she spat at him as she ripped the bracelets from her wrists. His eyes popped in amazement with the ease that the harpy broke through the titanium cuffs. "Can't let you be weakened now, can we?" Her reflective pupils constricted to slits within flinty eyes before they dilated with hunger. "No, we can't," she cooed. "We have something to do."

The winged woman sat back on her haunches, pinning the man to the floor as she opened a buckle at her waist. The next instant found Talagon beneath Della's clawed foot, the talon of one of her toes gently resting within the large link of his chain of office as she stood over him. His eyes were drawn to her jaundiced talons as they traced lines within the black down that covered her loins. Mesmerized by the actions of her human like hand, he was taken by surprise to hear the renting of cloth, and the feel of the cool air against his hips.

"Make it rise" she hissed as she cupped his manhood in her other hand. Della did not stop in her self-ministrations as he felt her talons hardened against the soft underbelly of his sac.

He closed his eyes as he swallowed dryly, reaching deep for the courage to speak. He dared not look at what this female was doing to herself least his body betray him. "Never," his voice, strong just moments ago in recounting history, was now no more that a dry whisper. Sharp pinpricks were defining exactly where her fingers were around his genitals.

"Come, come, m'lord," again, the distain of using formality with this man evident. "I would hate to exaggerate its length when I show it off on my wall!"

Talagon's eyes flew open with that statement. "You wouldn't…"

Della merely arched an eyebrow. She leaned in closer to his face, her lips hovering over his ear. "Show me. Convince me that I should take the whole package back to my flock." A small chuckle danced across it. "Perhaps I'll share."

The scent of her musk filled his nostrils and almost made him vomit. He focused on his breathing, calming his mind with little effect and soothing his stomach with ragged breaths. _'This can not be happening! I must get out from under her!'_, but he could feel her impatience as she manipulated his testes, each sharply honed talon in turn reaching deeper into his tender skin, her thumb tracing circles over the tops. Knowing that where there's life, there's hope, he vowed to get out of this alive so to exact revenge for this humiliation.

Swallowing down bile, he focused on the lessons he learned as a very young man in the company of his peers. The Fae have absolute control over their bodies and their environment, either with the use of will power or magic. With great restraint, Talagon relaxed his groin muscles and raced his blood to allow it to engorge his loins. The act brought him no relief, knowing who would be taking advantage of his abilities. His actions were confirmed with Della's trill.

"Very nice. Not a bad catch at all."

She removed her foot from his chest and straddled his hips, once again on her knees. She continued to stroke the soft feathers that covered her nether region with one hand while she guided his erection towards it. Again, Talagon's eyes flew open, this time in pleasurable surprise as he felt the tantalizing tickle of living feathers brush against his most sensitive spot. She did not guide him in just yet. She just allowed the tip to trace the outline her cloacae, letting her fluids lubricate him until he was dripping with desire himself. Slowly, aching warmth surrounded the bulb and Talagon was driven insane.

Now he understood what led animals to rut. The maddening heat exuding from her entire body, the smell of raw femininity clouding his mind, the enticing call of her womb created a primal urge within him to thrust, and to thrust deeply. However, Della was in control of this situation and her instincts kept her there.

She didn't even need to look at him to know what he wanted to do. Her eyes were shut in concentration, her focus on her hips. Rhythmically, she tilted them forward and back, arching her back to maximize the area of stimulation. She felt him squirm beneath her, reaching to delve deeper, but the vice-like grip of her knees on his hips restricted his movements. She continued to torment her previous tormentor.

Gently, the area of warmth traveled down the length of his penis. An anguished moan escaped his lips as he realized what was actually happening. It was no longer a threat—she was raping him, taking him within her for his degradation. He tried to separate his mind from his body, willing himself not to enjoy the feel of her virgin, toned muscles around him, but do to so was difficult. The sensations he was feeling were both familiar and new. The feel of a receptive woman with a ring of down preceding it. The progression halted when he felt the barrier of her maidenshead. He bit his lip, dreading the next step.

With a crow sounding more like victory rather that pain, Della impaled herself, and her maidenhood, upon Talagon.

Della's body pitched forward. Talagon moved his arms in an effort to keep her from falling too heavily on top of him, but her hands shot forward and pinned his shoulders to floor. He felt the sting of her talons as she gripped him, forcing him to pay attention to her. It was then he realized how intelligent she was. Forced to look into her eyes, he saw only deep pits of bestial drive, not the usual sparkle of repressed rage that he usually saw glinting from her obsidian-colored eyes. Again, he closed his eyes, this time to shield himself from further abasement.

He did not need his eyes open to know what the harpy was doing. The sensations from his body were more than adequate to fill him in where he refused his eyes to see. The bare skin of his groin was stimulated by the back and forth rubbing of her feathers as she ground her hips into his. His blood boiled and raced to the sound of her grunts and tongue clicks as she worked herself into a frenzied state. Welts were forming on the backside of his shoulders where her talons kneaded them in her passion. His hair lifted gently in time to the downstroke of her wings.

Now Talagon had a contradiction of sensations. He still had the wonderful feeling of being embedded within a woman--a woman who was controlling the pace, depth, and angle of his penetration--yet he felt no weight. The pressure on his hips and shoulders simply was no longer there. Realizing that this would probably be his only chance to break free from her grip, he bent his knees in preparation to buck her off.

To his chagrin, his hips responded, but not directly to his thoughts. Buck they did, to only thrust deeper into Della's teasing body. His hips thrust upwards, trying to catch the harpy and maintain their contact. She timed her wing beats to match his pace, downstroking on his advance, dropping on his recoup.

A gasp was forced from his throat with the next sensation. His eyelids flew open in an effort to dim the platinum blinding light that the pain caused him. He was rewarded with the view of Della, iridescent black wings outstretched and flapping to maintain her aloft, her legs bent like a dancing bird over its kill, her hand reaching beneath her and under him. The leverage that he sought and that his body used to betray him granted her access to his rectum. Access that she now used to probe his cavity with.

Her finger found its target. Wave after wave of pleasure shot through Talagon's body, coursing up his spine to his brain as she massaged his prostrate. He realized that his body could not withstand this onslaught for very much longer. He moaned in disgrace as he realized what his body was about to do, yet there was no way he could stop the gyrations and pounding his blood lust demanded. Like mercury in a thermometer that has been dipping in hot oil, blinding pleasure and white hot urge raced up his back, goaded faster by Della's palm pressing into his reservoir. The final insult came when at the point of his explosion, when the essence of his personality was overwhelmed by the hedonism of his body; she squeezed the seed out of his body, forcing it into hers.

Panting and drained, he lay exhausted beneath her still bobbing form. He was spent and emotionally beaten, yet the disgrace she had put him through only fanned the sparks of revenge that he had yet to plan. This was not the end of it, he promised to himself.

Still riding him and not quite done, she was lost somewhere between bliss and oblivion. Once he released his load, she removed her hand from beneath him. Placing both hands on his chest now, she used that leverage to create a bit more of a forceful bounce in her pace. Shocked, Talagon found his body responding by maintaining his arousal. Even if he did not move, she was not going to release him until she was finished.

"Tell me, Talagon," she hissed, barely looking at him as she addressed him. "Are you prepared to die?"

"Die? You said that you might share me with your flock!"

She was nearing her own climax. The pace she was setting for herself was frenetic and her breathing was in gasps and pants. Through his tunic, he felt her talons harden upon his chest. In spite of that, she still responded, her eyelids nearly closed in ecstasy. "And that I shall, but your heart shall always be mine!"

With that, Talagon felt the beginning contractions of her orgasm, just before her talons ripped through his tunic, into his chest. He screamed in agony as he felt her fingers plunge into his ribs, seeking out the beating life-force that lay within. His dying eyes beheld Della, in the throes of her first orgasm, her wings outstretched to their full glide length, with his heart still beating in her hand as she took a bite out of it.

She chewed the flesh of the still living organ in cadence with the rhythmic spasms that pulsed through her body. She continued her meal still astride her mate until every last bit was consumed and she sucked the gore off of her fingers. Only then did she rise, sated and filled, to the pile of straw that she had been forced to sleep on for the past week.

Drawn to the forbidden hallway in the East wing this silent dawn by the death cry, the servants of the household gathered outside the locked door. None dared to enter--they all knew what resided behind the oak barrier. Not even the kitchen servants have crossed that threshold with the bloody beverages their master would instruct them to bring and leave just outside. Now the passageway and the wing were silent. Hands that were wringing either aprons or vests were too busy to knock on the door to inquire after their master.

Della grabbed handfuls of straw bedding and scoured her legs of the fluids that were drying there before she donned her leather skirt. The sticky mess was uncomfortable in her feathers and she hoped that she would have a chance to bathe in the sands at the rookery before needing to report to the King. For although she was driven to mating with the old fool, if she had her choice, she would have tasted that which the King had flirted with her every so often. At least she wouldn't feel as soiled as she did. But for now, her blinding survival libido was calmed and she had information to impart – and a meal to deliver.

Her sense of smell alerted her to the visitors that were gathering outside the door. Buckling her skirt as she approached the door, she tested the latch, already knowing the answer. The silent hallway on the other side let out a tiny gasp as she rattled the handle ineffectively. A quick survey of the door and its hinges finalized her course of action.

Using her talons as grappling hooks, Della perched herself onto the plane of the door, her toes digging into the close-grained wood and supporting her weight easily. Arranging her hands over the uppermost hinge, the tips of her talons lodged around the joint where the metal was fastened to the wood. With a howl that rivaled the North Wind that she was used to riding, Della hardened her talons, allowing the energy from the Fae meat that she had just consumed support the growth in her fingers. As the talons hardened, they buried themselves deeper into the door, splintering the wood away from the hinge plate until the corner of the door was rent from its frame. Hopping down easily, she repeated the action twice more until the only thing the held the door upright was the magically fastened door jam.

The denizens of the fortress scurried into the crevasses created by the decorative pillars that lined the corridor when they heard the first thump of harpy's latching onto the door. Her screech froze them, rooting them to the stone, their eyes glued to the now seemingly fragile door. When the top corner listed off the frame, even the legs of the stoutest of the dwarves quaked. As the corner of torchlight became a triangle, then a full gap, none were able to move. It was one thing to be cowed by the cruel nature of the Fae, but to be faced with the rapaciousness of a harpy turned them all into creatures of prey.

Della turned to the corpse still cooling on the stone floor. The clicking of her toe talons were muffled as they stepped into the growing pool of blood that was staining the grout. With no effort, she lifted what was once Lord Morriagin of Talagon, overseer of the Northern Lands as bequeathed by the High King Oberon of Avalon, and draped him across her shoulders. Her toes left maroon spots as she crossed the space of her prison for the last time. Grasping the free edge of the last remaining obstruction to her freedom, Della peeled back the door, forcing the oak to snap away from the metal of the door knob plate.

The battlement shutters on the spacious window were kept open so that the natural light would illuminate the wing. The first pink rays of morning had already passed through the corridor and now cheery, bright light flooded a macabre scene. Small cries of distress and horror announced the exit of the harpy as she emerged from the room, the blood and gore of their master draping her like a cloak of red gossamer lace, covering her from shoulders to floor pooling and trailing behind her. The winged creature took in the scene before her. None would hinder her exit; she decided a few parting words to relieve them of their services were in order.

"You know," she stated in a conversational tone, "For as cruel of a bastard Lord Talagon was, he really did have a tender heart." She now stood a bit straighter; her wings held close to her body in attention, "By order of my position as Head of the Harpy Guard assigned to the Goblin King, I hereby declare you the property of King Jareth."

With that, she strode down the hall to the open window. With a light hop to the stone sill and a cry to the breeze, Della leaped into the sky and the glorious morning.


	51. Chapter 51

**Chapter 51. Seeds of deceit**

Daryl Daniels was as mystified now as from the moment that she appeared in his cell. For no reason, she freed him of the asylum and the drugs that had poisoned him. Now, they walked in silence until they stood on the edge of the town. "Do you know where you are?" she asked.

"I've been here before," he curtly answered. "The girl~" he paused. "The Williams girl was from here. I hear she's dead," he smiled, thinking she was dead and he lived.

"She lives," Circe informed him, watching his smile fade and a disbelieving expression form on his face. "Not here, but she lives."

"What do you want of me," Daryl asked thinking more clearly now than he had in months, perhaps even years.

"I want only what you want," she said banally. "Revenge."

Dr. Daniels studied the face of his patroness; she was unlike any other woman he'd ever encountered. "What has the Williams girl done to you that you would set me upon her?"

Calculating that this creature would not survive, Circe saw no reason to not give him an honest answer. "She stands in the way of what I want."

It was a more honest answer than Dr. Daryl Daniels had expected. "She's known to do that," he growled menacingly. "What is it you want?"

"Power," she answered eloquently. Circe regarded the man. He was hardly worth the effort she deemed. However if he could be persuaded to do her bidding, it would start the domino effect to the pawns in her plan. "I was told you had a plan to bend her to your will."

"It was a foolish plan, and I had idiots execute it. She got wind of it and I paid with my mind and body." Daniels crossed his arms, holding back the anguish of the memory of the mock trial. "Had I but had a taste of her," he mused, "It would have all been worth it." He looked at the woman. "She was the only one of the "patients" that I didn't have the pleasure of sampling in my efforts to stabilize them."

Giving him a cool gaze, she could only imagine his idea of treatment. "You seem to still desire correcting that oversight."

"That girl cost me my job, my reputation, and my very soul, madam," he answered curtly again. "Of course I want some of my own back." He surveyed the horizon beyond. "What are you offering?"

"What did you plan to do to by means of attracting the girl's attention? What did you have that she wanted?" Circe knew fully what he had planned, and this time she'd see to his success.

"The girl had only one weakness as far as I could see," he sighed. "An unusual devotion to her little brother;" He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'd intended to take the boy captive and draw her to me. but I instead was taken captive and brought to her at an old asylum, where she pumped me full of the drugs that I had prescribed to my patients."

"What a fitting place for her to meet her end," laughed Circe. "Show me this asylum," she held out her hand. "Touch my hand and I will see what you've seen."

Daniels was reluctant to give that information out. "For what reason?"

"Your asylum will make the perfect place for you to wreak revenge on the Williams girl and her kin." Circe said with as sweet a smile as ever a cobra wore.

"So you will give me both the boy and his sister?" He didn't quite believe it, but he liked the thought.

"I will make it possible. The having is up to you," she shrugged, extending her hand. The man passed his hand toward her.

--

Tanya stood looking in her bath mirror at the mark Jareth had place upon her. She blushed deep rose as she traced the mark with the tips of her fingers, remembering being in the arms of the Goblin King. It was only a matter of time, she told herself, until he would see that she was the perfect wife for him. She'd even vowed to be tolerant of his keeping that creature in the tower. After all, a Queen was much more important than a mere slave~ she could afford to be generous.

--

Sarah looked at the scratches and bruise marks on the King's face. "You deserve far worse," she lamented.

Naked and basking, Jareth glowered over at her. "Care to inflict more?" he taunted.

"Get over yourself," she said, standing up and looking at the mess.

"Tagaan," the Goblin King murmured, holding out a hand to her. "WE are what we must be."

Sarah looked at him without judging. "I suppose that's true, but that girl has no idea of what your plans are. She thinks you're going to make her your queen."

He stood up, crossed the floor unconcerned and unhampered by his nakedness. He was as graceful out of clothes as he was in them. "No one will wear that title Tagaan, nor your title, either."

Sarah hated what the sight of him could do to her, she hated being weak. "I know you mean that, but…"

"No buts," he interrupted her, snaking his fingers into the tangled hair on her neck. "I will do what I have to. I will drag this kingdom and the entire Underground back up… but only you will bear my sons."

"The High King," she muttered. "The council…"

"Can all go to blazes," Jareth pulled her to him. "What I do, I do for the future of our worlds… yours, mine, all of it. Both sides of the mists."

Under different circumstances she might have applauded him, and stood as his most fervent follower. "You are a dangerous man," she gritted through her clenched teeth. "_**Jareth Tuatha Dé Danann Huukec Mec, Warrior King**_."

"Part of my charm," he buried his face in her neck. "As long as I have you to come back to, as long as you are with me, I can withstand anything and anyone."

"I'm not yours freely," she reminded him.

"You are the price of peace with the Above," he acknowledged before moving toward the window. He said nothing more to her before he transformed and soared into the midday air.

Sarah shivered, wanting to cry out and warn him. Of what she was not sure.

--

Della arrived at the rookery, tossing the bloody carcass to the center of the rookery floor. She crowed as she'd heard others crow upon returning from mating. Iris entered the common ground followed by others of the flock; the matron looked at the body and asked carefully. "Fae meat? How did you come by this?"

Docilely gazing at the remains of her mate, Della shrugged, "Couldn't hold his liquor."

The harpies gathered, the aroma of fresh meat drawing them out from every corner of the rookery. They held back, looking from Della whose kill this was, to the Matron who would decide if they could or could not eat. Iris understood the sarcasm in Della's tone, but needed to know more. "This is a Fae Lord who has given our King much… difficulty. He has been a nuisance for quite some time. How is it you…"

Della looked down at the donor of the seed that was even now being nourished and nurtured within her. "He drugged a goat," she answered with a grim expression. "Seems he was knowledgeable of our preferences in game meat. He boasted to me of his having used such temptations on our kind before." She was even now, one week hence her being taken captive, feeling foolish for having been captured. "I should have noticed the creature in the brambles was not struggling as it should have been. Had I not been distracted by the aroma of warm fresh blood…"

"We were informed that you had gone missing and had been taken captive," Iris said with a nod. "The King ordered us to stand our grounds and protect the hatchlings."

"_**Jareth Tuatha Dé Danann Huukec Mec, Warrior King**_ gave good advice, " Della sighed heavily. "That one was one of the conspirators and the collaborators who took the life of the first _**Tagaan**__** or Rhuukarlaan**_." She felt the weight of responsibility fall heavy on her shoulders. "He used us, and was planning to use us again. He planned to kill the _**Tagaan**__** or Rhuukarlaan**_, and drive King Jareth to the same despair that took the life of Zoltarie. The old fool thought that I was just an animal, that I didn't truly understand his boastings, and disclosed to me the past and the future."

Concern for the young female filled the Matron's eyes. "He starved you?"

"He was a fool," Della repeated. "He thought he could… train me." She crossed her arms.

The Matron's taloned hand moved to the chin of the defiant guard. "You mated with this one?" When Della nodded, Iris sighed. "It's the first time one of our women has mated with a Fae. We must take care to nourish you." She snapped her fingers and the women gathered round the mound of flesh that had once been Talagon. "You may feed first," she said to the harpy who'd bought the meet home.

"I've fed," Della said curtly. "I brought the rest for our flock."

"There is a tradition," Iris reminded her. "You've taken his heart. Now take that which delivered the seed to your fertile ground."

Della looked at the remains of his erection as she moved closer. "Mind if I take a bit more? I know a little goblin that could use a new change purse." With one quick swipe of her extended talons, the harpy removed the reproductive organ. Scrotum and penis were severed from the lifeless form. Della held them up and crowed.

Iris nodded and the feeding frenzy began. Della took her place beside the Matron. Iris clasped hands with the younger harpy while the rest fed. "You did good, daughter," she whispered. "You have avenged our flock and our line."

"Not good enough, mother," Della sighed. "There is still danger, to our flock now as well as to the rest of the Goblin kingdom."

"You expect retaliation from the High King?" Iris sounded doubtful; she had heard rumors of Talagon being out of favor.

"No, from the daughter of this one," Della said coldly. "She's an icy little piece of work," adding as an afterthought. "She'd have made a fine harpy in another life."

Iris chuckled. "Go to the sands, clean your wings and rest," she ordered.

"And the King?" Della asked.

"Has problems of his own," Iris observed. "We must tend the flock, it would be his wish. You've mated, and need to rest. Go… little will happen without our knowing. Your sisters are keeping watch."

--

Tanya was taking a quiet walk by herself. Her father was still in council and her mother had taken to her bed as she often did after a trauma. Walking along the pleasant garden path, Tanya placed her hand over the place where she bore the King's mark. Her face was peaceful and serene, her thoughts diplomatic. _**Jareth Tuatha Dé Danann Huukec Mec, the Warrior King**_ was her lover and she could withstand anything.

"Miss Winderspire, might I have a word?" Circe stood in the girl's path, having transported herself into the garden. Her voice soothing and very pleasant, her face a painted mask of cordialness.

Taken by surprise, Tanya pulled in her step. Her breath caught in her throat, unsure if she should scream or not—her heart was pounding at the sudden and unwelcomed intrusion on her personal secret thoughts. The gardens of the ducal palace were private and outsiders unwelcomed. Tanya decided not to~ it was not like Circe was going to cause her bodily harm. However Tanya didn't like or trust the other. "What can I do for you, Lady Talagon?" her tone was wintry and exceedingly formal.

"One hears that you are~ favored by the Goblin King," Circe stated composedly, almost congratulatory. The girl didn't deny it, so the older Fae woman went on. "I know that his attentions at the fete were happenstance and not to be counted on." She leaned toward the girl, as if ready to divulge a secret. "Is it true?"

Tanya wondered if there were any servants nearby if she had need of them. "I don't know what you're talking about," she quickly stated wondering how anyone could possibly know of what transpired but three hours ago.

"I'm sure that's not so," Circe said trying to sound reasonable. "I'm fairly sure that the King's attentions to me were for your benefit, a ploy to make you see how desirable he is. When he took me into the nook, it was your name he spoke, not mine." She saw the blush rise on the other's face and knew the answer the other was trying to hide. "Did the cat's bait work on his chosen mouse?"

Tanya's hand, poised over the mark over her heart, seemed to hover and the girl's face took on a serene possessiveness. "I did see the Goblin King earlier today," she admitted quietly. "He and I have~ an understanding."

As if they had been lifelong friends, Circe held out her hands to the younger girl. "I wish you joy." She saw hesitation in the young woman. "I come to you now to ask for your friendship."

"Friendship?" Tanya questioned, holding her hand tighter to the mark over her heart. She had seen this woman brazenly waltz into a nook with Jareth. She had witnessed her behavior and had been the brunt of cruel remarks from her only last night. For years her mother had ragged on and on about Talagon and his daughter. The only pleasant words were spoken of the late Lady Talagon whom the Duchess pitied.

Piqued that the girl was being a bit more difficult than anticipated, Circe tried being contrite. "Miss Winderspire," she lowered her eyes remorsefully, filling her voice with repentance. "I do so beg your forgiveness if anything I've ever done has caused you sorrow or hurt. It was never my intention."

Tanya didn't quite believe it, "Why should _**you**_ want _**me **_as a friend?"

Moving to her side, as if they were confidants, Circe placed a hand on the hand that was not at the girl's heart. "My father is getting on in years," she confided. "Soon the responsibility of his office shall fall upon me. I have had to pick up the pieces behind him for years now, and he's made an enemy of the Goblin King. It would be good to have a friend in the Goblin Courts…" she kept her tone respectful while wanting to gag. "I should very much like someone who can plead my causes for me."

"Are you suggesting that King Jareth is unfair in his treatment of your accords?" Tanya asked stiffly. "What does that have to do with me?"

"No," Circe sighed. "My father however may have left the King with a very bad impression. He's brash, to say the least."

"So I've heard," Tanya remembered Talagon's threats and Jareth's reactions.

Circe sighed heavily. "Yes, well that's my lot," she heaved another sigh for emphasis. "How can I combat King Jareth's ill will? Oh, he was very clear last evening that his little waltz with me was not to be taken as anything more than him… amusing himself," she looked pleadingly at the young woman. "You have his favor, and most likely will be announcing your nuptials soon." The blush on the girl gave Circe pleasure. "I can see how you glow, you're in love."

"I glow?" gasped Tanya, thinking it was a good thing her mother had not yet seen her.

"Indeed," the cunning Fae female simpered. "Why, it's only a matter of time before we see you crowned. And I'd like to be one of the first to offer you my hand in friendship, and to show my friendship to you," Circe simpered patronizingly, "I've come with an olive branch."

"An olive branch?" repeated the younger.

"Yes," Circe hooked an arm into Tanya's, mimicking the way she'd seen some of the younger women do on Avalon when she attended Court. "I'm afraid I've witnesses witnessed several occasions where that _**woman**_, that _**Tagaan**__** or Rhuukarlaan**_, has insinuated herself. She had cut you off from King Jareth once or twice. She obviously does not know her place." The pout formed before Tanya could prevent it and it was witnessed by the observing Circe. "I bring you a means to be rid of the problem of the _**Tagaan**__** or Rhuukarlaan**_. A way to send her back to her own dimension and her own kind. surely you don't think she belongs here," Circe practically crowed. "I happen to know that her little brother is going to be in grave danger, and you can open a portal to send her to his aid … and then close the portal, trapping her once more in the mortal plane."

"How do you know this?" Tanya extricated her arm from the scheming woman. "How do you know anything about the _**Tagaan**__** or Rhuukarlaan**_?"

"Suffice to say I've the information," Circe sighed. "Act quickly and you will achieve two things. Riding yourself and the Kingdom of the _**Tagaan**_, and secondly you will have been the means of rescuing a mortal child. Surely that will elevate you in the eyes of the Goblin King. One hears how~ fond he is of the little creatures."

"No," the girl with doe eyes pulled back from Circe. "I don't know what you are planning, but it's no use! I won't help you," she felt panic set in. "You don't belong here, Lady Talagon. I don't want to be your friend. I'll not do anything that will upset Jareth, and removing his slave would surely make him very angry."

"Pity," Circe said coolly, "For the boy will be in danger whether you do or don't."

Lips trembling with fear, Tanya blinked. "What have you done?" She looked about, franticly searching for help.

"I? I have done nothing," Circe lied smoothly. "I brought this information to you as a means of showing you my friendship."

"I don't believe you," Tanya argued. "You're just a jealous old crow! You want him, I can smell it on you. You want Jareth." She backed away. "My father and mother talk about your father openly, you know."

"Do they," some of her mask slipped a bit, allowing Tanya to see the barely concealed distain that Circe harbored. "Pity they didn't warn you to be more careful about your walks in the garden." Her hand shot out a flash and the girl fell to the ground, rendered unable to move or speak. "I'm going to have to borrow your pretty little flying pony," Circe said standing over the young woman. "And if you don't mind," she breathed evenly as she took on the glamour that would make her appear in Tanya's likeness. The wide-eyed shock in the girl's eyes was satisfying to the other. "I shall do this in your stead, in your name and likeness. Pity you didn't just agree to be the hand of justice." The intruder laughed cruelly. She smoothed the riding habit and winked at the fallen girl. "Good bye, little Tanya. I doubt very much that I shall ever see you again." Turning, the woman vanished.

Tanya could feel the invisible bonds that held her. She stilled, focusing on finding a chink in the ties.

--

Jareth could feel something was about to happen, the air tingled about him and he knew a summons was coming. "Donatien, we must put this on hold," he held up his gloved hand. A moment later it struck with full force, the call that could not be denied. He grabbed the edge of the table. "A summons," he muttered.

The Master of the Guilds watched with rapt attention, never having witnessed a summons. "Is there anything I can do, sire?"

Taking a deep breath, Jareth nodded. "Prepare the quarters as we have laid them out. My harem will need to be furnished before the women are housed. I leave that to your capable hands, and those of the Guild. Rosalind will be a willing student as will many of the others. However, remember I don't want the Duke's daughter included in that assemblage. She is a separate issue." The first wave of shock had passed and before a second came, he transformed himself. He was now in the full regalia and preparing to take flight. "The Goblins are on their way and I too must go."

Donatien bowed, "The Goddess's speed," he bid as he watched the king open a portal.

--


	52. Chapter 52

**Chapter 52. Catch 22**

A dark cloud was heading furiously toward the tower. Sarah could feel its approach long before she actually saw it. The hair on the nape of her neck was standing, and she knew it was more than the residual effect left by the summons that had just come. Jareth was on the other side of the veil, and she felt strangely lopsided and unhinged for the first time in his absence. It was so close to how she'd felt for so long on the other side. Something she'd not been subject to for months now living in the Underground. The feelings of discomfort and anxiety drove Sarah to begin to pace.

Daisy watched her pace, "You'll wear a path in the stones, Lady Sarah." She warned.

"So be it," muttered the _**Tagaan**__** or Rhuukarlaan**_. Something in the air caught Daisy's attention, she sprung into a defensive stance, pulling her sword just before a flash of light hit her and crushed her to the ground. Sarah hissed like a cat and then howled like a banshee at the intruder.

"Still yourself, fool! There is little time and we should not waste it," ordered the Fae woman who found she could not hold up the glamour upon entering the tower. "I come to offer freedom," Circe added in a sinister way; "And your brother's life."

"Toby?" Sarah winced, "Toby?"

Disdainfully Circe advanced on the human girl. "He's in danger, an old danger that was meant for you, Sarah Williams… and only I can help you. Come with me, I'll take you out of this tower and to a place where you can re enter your realm and save the child." She held out her hand to Sarah. "Come quickly, before I am found out! There is no time to waste."

"Toby," Sarah gripped the extended hand without caring about what the consequences were. Daisy, stunned but alive looked on, watching and unable to stop them. "Take me to him," Sarah commanded as if she knew something more about it already.

"Don't you even wish to know what the danger is," challenged the catalyst.

"I know what the danger is," Sarah growled. "Daniels!" She followed Circe out the window and jumped onto the back of the winged beast. "Let's go." Circe laughed as she took the steed away from the tower, away from the castle and toward the windswept hill that stood on the border.

Daisy laid breathing heavily for a moment, and then with every bit of strength in her goblin body, she pulled herself inch by inch across the floor toward the window. "Sarah, no…trap…" she rasped; every fiber in her understood, something was very wrong. The creature that came in the widow looked like Miss Winderspire, but couldn't possibly have been. It has shape shifted, but eyes out of focus Daisy didn't see who it truly was. She only knew she needed to sound the alarm.

--

Della scrubbed herself free of the residual of Talagon. The urgency would not leave her and she shook the sands off before preening and making sure her plumage was fully clean. She wanted to be back on her way to the Goblin King's castle. She had a feeling she was needed.

Swiftly she went to the Matron, "I must return to the Goblin King's castle, something is wrong." She said urgently.

"You know this?" Iris asked not doubting her daughter's words.

"I do," Della turned to the breeze coming in the rookery. "I'm needed."

"Go my daughter," commanded the Matron of the Rook. "Keep our faith with the Goblin King." Della let out a war cry as she ran to the opening spreading her wings.

--

Tanya focused, keeping her mind moving in one direction. Jareth needed her, and she would be strong for him. She needed to warn him, to save him. Slowly the bonds that had been place by a spell upon her shattered and the spell broken. "Little fool am I?" She rose from the ground eyes flashing with fire, "We'll see who the real fool is." Moving quickly she headed back toward the corrals where the winged horses her father bred were kept. She had not expected the carnage that awaited her there. All of the horses in the corral were slain, and her personal mount was missing. The stable hands were unconscious, but still breathing.

Tanya fretted; Circe had butchered the horses with little care for the carnage left behind. The young Fae woman had never seen anything like it, and it filled her with fear. If the daughter of Talagon could slaughter defenseless creatures like this, what else was she capable of? Placing a hand over the mark left by Jareth she decided to take action and damn the consequences. Her father had never allowed her transport herself via a portal, but she felt that this was an emergency and he would understand. She focused, opened a portal to the Goblin Kingdom and stepped thought.

--

Sarah refrained from touching the woman seated with her on the winged horse. Even being this close was painful to Sarah. Circe either unaware or uncaring urged the stolen winged beast on, until she reached the windswept hill outside the Labyrinth. She reigned in the beast that also seemed to wish to escape her presences. Once they'd landed and Sarah had jumped from the winged beasts back, Circe dismounted. She pointed to the place where the dead tree stood. "Here is where we part, Sarah Williams." With a dramatic flick of her wrist she opened a portal. "Your brother is on the other side, save him if you can." She challenged.

"I know you," Sarah's voice was a low rumble. "You're that daughter of Talagon… the one they call Circe."

Simpering and thinking she'd no need to disguise herself the other answered willingly. "Yes, I am, what of it?"

Closing her eyes and absorbing as much of the living being of the Labyrinth as she dared, Sarah growled a threat. "Whatever it is you've done, I shall stop you." Her green eyes opened, afire and filled with power. "I shall save Toby, and when I return."

"You won't be returning," Circe laughed. "Hurry now, before the portal closes."

Sarah glared at her foe. "I shall return." She declared before heading into the portal.

Circe closed the opening between the fabrics of the worlds. She gave little thought to what she thought were useless threats by the mortal. She had bigger fish to fry, and looked at Tanya's winged horse. She tied the beast to the dead tree and left it there, as a clue. Spreading her cloak like wings she vanished from the hillside.

--

Daisy crawled as far across the floor as she could, inching her way toward the opening. With every reserve she had she dug her fingers into the stones of the wall and pulled herself up into the opening. She had hoped the air would revive her, but found that whatever it was that the intruder had hit her with didn't seem to be breaking. She gasped for air as she rested momentarily on the ledge, planning on calling for her griffin. Leaning forward to sound the call, she could not keep her balance and began to topple over the edge and down ward. In mid fall great talons reached out and snatched her from a certain death.

"Hang on Runt," a voice commanded.

Taking a breath, Daisy looked up and faintly smiled. "Don't drop me, Birdie." She wheezed lightly.

Della looked down and frowned, "You look like hell," she shook her head. "I take a few days off and everything goes to hell…"

"Sarah," Daisy said through her pain, "They took Sarah."

"Shit," Della growled. "Where's the King?"

"Away," gasped Daisy still fighting for air. "Need healer… now, birdie…now."

Della winged her way to the turret where the old healer would be.

--

Daniels stood over the boy who'd been delivered to him by agents who now lay dead in the outer chamber of what was left of the asylum. They had found the boy on the playground at his school and had no trouble in maneuvering him away from the crowd. They had drugged him, and transported him to the asylum without problems. Now he lay on a slab, looking lifeless and helpless. Daniels hoped he'd awaken soon, or he'd miss the show.

--

Circe returned to a darkened estate, no signs of any servants or her father, and the smell of death was in the air. She entered the fortress and looked about, "Father," she called out with only her own echo answering. She'd never known such quiet in this house, and it was not something she wanted to become accustomed to. She moved from room to room on the main floor and found not one servant.

Moving down to the dungeon she saw that the harpy had been moved. She knew her father had prepared a cell in a tower room for the beastly creature. 'He must be there,' she thought to herself and hurried to the stairs that would take her to the upper floor. The door of the prepared chamber was off its hinges and smashed up looking more like fire wood than a door. On the floor was a line of blood and gore, and the stench of death was so strong it pushed Circe back. She headed back down to the lower level hurriedly, certain that the blood had belonged to her father and the carnage up there had been of the harpy's making.

Talagon's death was not something that Circe was able to mourn. He had been an albatross about her neck, and his death freed her. But the lack of any servants about was something she found disturbing. Surely they would not just run off, would they? She moved to a part of the house she'd stayed away from, the scullery and the rooms where the servants worked. Here she found the same quiet as in the rest of the house.

"Where did everyone go?" she asked aloud.

"Gone," a voice in a dark corner answered. "All gone to pay homage to the Goblin King."

Circe's eyes scoured the dark corner. "Pay homage to the Goblin King?" she repeated. "Why?"

"He is the new master of this house, and all its contents, furnishings, and people included." The owner of the voice ventured forward, a bent and disfigured figure of a man. He was old and had been one of the servants who her father had kept here in servitude that was more like slavery. "The harpy laid claim to the lands and possessions of our lord in the name of the Goblin King just before she slung your father's dead carcass over her shoulder and flew away."

"She what?" Circe gasped in disbelieve.

"Everything here now is forfeit," the old man cackled. "Everything your father hoarded now belongs to the Goblin he hated so." Old hands, crippled up with knotted joints pulled his ragged garments about him with more dignity than the Lord Talagon had ever shown. "All who could have gone headed toward the lands of the Goblin King to ask for his mercy. I would have gone too, had I not been so ill fit to travel." He looked about the dark and lonely room. "Alas here I wait, until my new lord had need of me."

"You have no new lord," barked Circe. "I am mistress of this house!"

"NO," the bent and broken man disagreed. "You would be mistress here had your father not died at the hands of the harpy. As it is, you have no more status than the rest of us." He cackled again. "Not so high and mighty now are you missy?"

Circe screamed in disbelief and despair. "This can't be."

--

Goblins gathered in the dark places, watching and waiting. They could feel the coming of a powerful force, and awaited it. The boy was sleeping, and seemed to be in no immediate danger. They kept a watchful eye on the man who hovered over the boy. If he got too close they would act, with or without the powerful being on its way.

Sarah found her feet, and landed like a cat, crouched and sniffing the air. A rumble gathered in the back of her throat. The rumble was answered by others, and Sarah knew there were goblins on this side of the fabric. "Come to me," she hissed. Dark forms gathered about her and she looked at them. "Keep watch on the boy, this man is mine." Her eyes glowed in the darkness, no longer looking human. The goblins at her feet all took a collected deep breath and awaited her orders.

--

Ghillie Dhu's face showed real concern. "Had you not been wearing Goblin armor you might not be with us," he informed the Captain of the guards. "The magic used was meant to destroy, not disable." He looked over at the discarded breastplate that he'd removed from Daisy. "You'd best replace that before you do anything else."

Donatien came into the infirmary, robes flying about him as he rushed in. "I was just informed you were here," he said moving to Daisy's side. "Are you alright?"

"Bruised and battered," she answered finding the ribs that had broken were painful when she spoke. "They've taken Sarah," she growled.

"Taken Sarah," Donatien repeated blinking. "Who's taken her, and where?"

"Woman," Daisy breathed. "Dressed like the little Winderspire, but not her."

Della shrugged, "I got here just in time to prevent this one from being a greasy spot at the base of the tower." She frowned. "Where's the King?"

"Summons," The Master of the Guild answered.

"And our lord Baron?" Della looked about expecting the flirtatious man to pop in.

"Under lock and key for his own safety," Daisy supplied; "You've missed a great deal while you were off being held captive." She teased her partner with a pained expression on her goblin face. "The King is baiting traps and it seems some of his chosen rats have taken the bait…"

"One rat won't be taking anymore bait," Della announced proudly. "Talagon is no more."

Donatien snickered behind his fingers. "The King said he'd bitten off more than he could chew by taking a harpy captive."

"I was not the first he'd taken," Della informed the small group present. She looked over at the healer. "He had knowledge of the harpy liking for fresh goat, drugged one and had it tangled in brambles… all I smelt was the blood," she explained. "The bastard tried to stave me into being his trained bird." Ghillie Dhu moved toward the harpy who held a hand up, to halt him. "I prefer not to be your patient."

Ghillie Dhu nodded, "You will seek the healer of your flock?"

"I have seen the healer, when I delivered the fresh meat to the flock," She smiled wickedly. "Best use that windbag was ever put to. I wonder what his daughter will do once she finds I've laid claim to all the lands of the Talagon in the name of the Goblin King…" she mused happily.

The laugh drew a pained cough from Daisy. "Oh that hurts." The healer returned to her side to begin to bandage up her sides to hold them until they could properly heal. "We must alert the king," she sighed.

"On a summons;" Donatien scoffed.

"Daisy is right," Della agreed. "That bastard was part of the plot that took the first _**Tagaan**__** or Rhuukarlaan**_. He boasted to me of how they murdered her, as if it were nothing. He boasted of the shame he brought to my flock, and for that alone I was eager to kill him." Her tone was husky as she spoke. "He boasted of how he and others would make sport of the _**Tagaan**__** or Rhuukarlaan**_, using her like a common whore… they don't understand the translation, the title does not translate into the Fae tongue the way it does in Goblin."

Sadly Daisy looked at her armor, "I can't wear that, it's too damaged." She looked at the man who in time would be her husband. "I need a new one, could you…."

"Wait here," he answered. "I'll get it myself, and then we should go to the throne room to wait for the King."

"Wait," Daisy said gritting her teeth to the pain. "Double the guards on the Baron and his lady. If I know anything, I know they will be the next targets, under arrest or not."

"As you suggest," Donatien said sweeping out of the room.

Della placed a hand on the arm of her partner, "Ten to one, Circe comes here demanding the King give her back the lands."

Shaking her head, and taking a coin from her purse Daisy simpered. "She'll make a plea to the High King, and play dumb to her father's actions."

"Bet taken," Della produced a coin of her own.

--

Like an avenging angel, Circe moved to head off the servants who were making a mass migration. She stood in their path blocking their movement. "Return to your duties." She ordered with her arms outstretched and electricity dancing off her fingers. "Or suffer the consequences."

"We answer to a new master," challenged one of the lesser servants.

"You'll answer to no one," cried the Fae woman as she struck down the helpless man. "Anyone else wish to challenge me?" Seeing no escape they turned and walked back toward the fortress. Circe looked over her shoulder toward the boundary of her lands. Some of the servants had already made it across the border. She would collect them later, she promised herself. As it was, she needed to herd these fools back and put the fear of her into them. If they thought her father was hard to please, she was going to show them what a real master was. "You'll just have to wait, Goblin King." She growled.

--

Daisy bandaged and braced in a new armor walked with care toward the circular throne room. The true seat of power in the castle, not that showy thing the King used to throw others off his scent. Della walked at her side, her talons making scraping sounds on the stone tiles beneath her clawed feet. Donatien kept pace with them, while keeping an eye on his wife to be. He would not want her to feel he was hovering but he could not take his eyes off her. He knew how close he'd come to losing her. The weapon's mater and leather master were both in the throne room awaiting them, as well as Philo and Lutin. Daisy turned to Philo, "We may have to move the Baron," she said thoughtfully. "Everyone will expect him to be in the dungeon, it may not be safe for him, or the woman."

"We are moving them now," Philo stated.

"Good," Daisy winced, and was helped to a seat beside the throne. "See to it that their location is kept secret." She looked up, the air was changing. "He comes," she announced. All the inhabitants of the chamber could feel the changes in the air. All eyes turned to where Daisy instinctually looked.

Jareth appeared, holding a child that looked battered and broken. Goblins came through the portal with him, they too were battle scared. The King's face was full of anger and frustrations, as he called for the goblins who would take the child to the nursery. "There's no runner," he announced handing over the child to the creatures that would see to its needs. "I'll be down to check in as soon as I have rested." He had not seen Daisy and the others gathered at the foot of his throne. When he turned and saw the gathering one word escaped his lips. "Sarah."

--

Sarah and the goblins that were with her moved seamlessly toward the buildings, one with the shadows. She leaned into the dark shapes of boulders and broken bits of building. "I know this place," she hissed.

"What will you do?" one goblin asked wide eyed.

"What I must," she answered feeling out of place in this realm. "I will save Toby."

"King not going to be happy," another goblin observed.

"I know," Sarah sighed. "But we are between a rock and a hard place. King is on summons, and I'm here… Either I save him, or we lose the boy… and that's not acceptable, never was." She lamented.

"We await your orders," the first goblin at her side said.

"Wait here, until I call for you…" Sarah whispered. "Right now I wish I had the power of glamour…" she huffed. "Oh well, here goes." Sarah motioned the goblin horde back, she smoothed her robes and she moved magnificently toward the opening of the ruins.

"She moves like a…" the goblin was at a loss for words.

"Like a _**Tagaan**__** or Rhuukarlaan**_," one offered.

"_**Tagaan**__** or Rhuukarlaan**_," the others repeated.

--

Tanya's portal opened and she stepped through, and found that she'd transported to the front gate of the castle. Rushing toward the heavy doors she quickly began to pound on the door. "Alert the King," she cried out. "There's a plot against him!"

Guards opened the gate, dressed in heavy goblin armor and looking fearsome. She entered when the guard motioned for her to, and she followed her escort up to a room she'd never seen, the circular room. There she found Jareth in conference with members of his household. "Jareth," she rushed toward him. "There's a terrible plot against you, and they are trying to make it look like I'm behind it."

The Goblin King caught her easily in his arms. "Calm yourself, Tanya." He commanded her gently. "Tell me what you know."

"I was in our garden," she breathed out. "Circe, the daughter of Talagon appeared out of nowhere and offered me her friendship. I didn't trust her; however I thought it best to find out what she was up to. She said she was in possession of information of danger to the brother of your _**Tagaan**__** or Rhuukarlaan**_, that I should use this information to rid myself of her interference. I told her I would do nothing to help her, and that the _**Tagaan**__** or Rhuukarlaan**_ was your business. I told her I had no intentions of angering you and she then used a spell on me to render me bound and unable to even call out." She began to tear up, "She told me she was going to use my own horse so people here would think it was I who had come here uninvited." Tanya remembered the scene at her father's stables. "She slaughtered all my father's horses… the entire herd and the grooms as well."

Jareth comforted the girl. "You were right to come to me," he assured her. "Daisy you were right, it was not Tanya who injured you and took Sarah."

"You believe me?" the girl sounded reassured.

Nodding Jareth motioned for the girl to be seated on the stair of his throne's dais. "Daisy, I will take over for now," he instructed. "I've goblins watching the boy at all times." He reached out his hand, instantly a crystal formed. "Tonti…" he called. "Tonti…" there was no answer, and the crystal remained dark.


	53. Chapter 53

**Chapter 53. Blood on her hands**

Doctor Daniels sensed her presence long before he could see the woman's approach. "How nice of you to accept my invitation," he said solicitously pouring a glass of wine matching the one in his own hand. "Join me," he said invitingly, "Sarah."

"I have no liking for that vintage," she announced coming into the light. Her head we held high and she moved with poise that royalty would have envied. Her garments, while just slightly unusual in the Underground, were completely out of place here on the mortal plane. Out of place, but totally Sarah.

The man looked at her. "Interesting choice of attire," he stared at the revealing garments. "I'm flattered."

"This," she announced darkly, "Is not for you."

"Surely it's not for that fool Lilith," he mused. "When last I saw her she was languishing in a padded cell, ranting and raving about being abandoned by some silly mythological Goddess~ Circe~ I believe, she claimed."

'Circe,' Sarah stored the name, knowing that when this business here was over she'd have to confront the Fae woman. "No," she said with more ease, "This is not for Lilith either." She looked at where her brother lay still on a stone slab, "If you've harmed him…"

"I've not touched him~ yet," Daniels announced coldly.

"And you won't," Sarah said with conviction. "I'm here to see to that."

The man sipped his wine, lamenting the unaccepted glass that contained a good dose of _Rohypnol_ or "roofies". He was unaffected by her outright threat. "Think of the boy as a means to an end, my dear." He studied her, now with a physician's eye. "You're leaner, more toned, and a bit more edgy than I recall."

"I've lived a very different life of late," Sarah stated without much emotion. She moved closer to where Toby lay, not trusting his statement of not having harmed the boy.

"He's fine, I assure," Daniels snickered. "It was a very mild sedative, and he should be coming around soon enough, I should think."

"You shouldn't have taken him. You shouldn't have brought him here of all places," Sarah glanced over her shoulder back toward Daniels. "This is a place of death and destruction," already there were goblins and night creatures filling in the dark places that mortals could not or would not see. "This boy belongs to…"

"Your precious mother and father, yes… I know," he mocked her.

Pity filled Sarah's eyes for a moment before the fires of hate returned. "Fool, this boy belongs to a power beyond that of mortal man. This child was marked years ago by a king who gives his protection to this child." She laughed at the shocked expression on the doctor's face. "You didn't think it was merely misfortune that caused the problems with your~ spies, did you now?" She turned her back to the child who was still unconscious. "Equipment failures, little accidents, and I'll bet they even reported being attacked by unearthly creatures."

Daniels frowned, "How do you know this?"

"You men of science," she mocked him further, "Always have to have an explanation for everything. Well, some things defy explaining. Some things are not within your~ control." Sarah felt a surge of power as she spoke.

Having lived in the Underground Kingdom of Labyrinthia, Sarah recognized the surge at once. It was the energy force of the living planet itself. 'The Ley lines,' she thought quickly. 'I have to plug myself into that source. Just like Jareth did,' she smiled cryptically at the man. "There are more things in heaven and earth," she quoted.

"Everything can be explained," he argued. "Your psychosis, for instance," he ridiculed, "Could have been explained, even treated in time, and how different your life would be."

"My psychosis," laughed Sarah sarcastically, "You have no idea of what the root of my dreamless state is or was!" She now placed herself between the man and the child on the slab. She moved forward slightly, seeking a spot on the floor where the power of the Ley lines would surge through her full force. Something told her, some inner sense, that the changes that had occurred during her time in the Labyrinth were changes that she could use. "Still think you know it all, don't you Doctor Daniels."

"I know that a spoiled girl came to my Clinic and had no desire to be cured," he accused. "You enjoyed the novelty of being ill."

"Did being pumped full of drugs teach you nothing?" Sarah scoffed. "No one enjoys the kind of torture you put us through. I was on herbs and homeopathic compounds that helped to keep me stable, but you, in your ultimate wisdom, took me off them, leaving me defenseless~ you thought." She didn't hide her distaste of his methods, nor her open hate for him personally. "You abused your position. You raped the very girls you were supposed to help."

"Rape is such a dirty term," laughed the man sipping his goblet of wine. "I simply allowed those girls to play out their fantasies. Purely in the name of science and in an effort to ground them to reality." His eyes were glazing over slightly, and his words slowed.

"You raped them," Sarah accused with clear and sound words. "You raped Bryn and you raped poor misguided Lilith."

"Oh no," he argued, laughing lightly. "I may have had to persuade your friend Bryn, but Lilith… she was already a little sex kitten before she came into my care. Sex was at her suggestion, not mine."

"Even so," Sarah contended, "You were the adult, and you took advantage of her neurosis and her fixation on sex. You didn't help her, you only helped yourself."

"That," he mused intriguingly, "Is so very true." He laughed again, remembering how playful Lilith was compared to the other girls. "Shall I tell you about Lilith, Sarah?" He sauntered smugly toward her. "Shall I describe the sessions I had with her, how she actively sought new ways to explore, until you came along." His eyes darkened. "You became her obsession, and I was no longer of interest to her," he sneered. "Outside of your stunning body, I don't see why she was interested in you."

"None so blind as he who will not see," Sarah quoted again.

"Interesting," Daniels huffed sardonically. "_**You've**_ become a philosopher." He turned his back on her and returned to the bottle of wine for one more drink. He was getting tired of this banter and would present her with his proposition of compromise in a few moments. "So tell me, just what is it I did not, and still don't, see."

"Doctor Daniels," the address was formal. "When you look at me you see an ordinary girl. One who took care of a screaming baby. One who had a problem holding her temper." Daniels nodded, and Sarah continued. "What you didn't see and still don't is that I am not just Sarah Williams, the girl who was sent here for anger management. I was, and am, far more."

"Still working as a striper?" he inquired snidely and he laughed. "I knew about that, you little tramp. Is this a new get up for stripping on stage?" he pointed to her unusual state of dress.

"No," Sarah answered politely. "My stripper days are well and good behind me." 'Make your move fool,' her mind challenged, what humanity she had left insisted that he had to make the first move. "I've left those days behind me."

"Of course you have," he said placating, but the look in his eyes said something else. "However, we never did get to spend any quality time together, and I unfortunately missed all of your performances." He took a seat upon some rubble and looked at her lustfully. "I'll tell you what~ you give me a private show, and I'll let the boy go."

Placing her hands on her hips and grounding herself into the Ley lines completely, she tossed back her head and laughed at him. "You're going to let the boy go anyway, willingly or not."

His hand moved down into his pocket, making sure the syringe he'd placed there was within his grip. "What makes you say that, my dear?"

Shrugging her shoulders, the girl stood in a challenging stance. "Because I'm going to order you to," her tone was that of one reasoning with a child.

"Strip for me and he's yours," Daniels lied.

"He's not mine," Sarah answered sadly. "Although I have already paid the price for him to the one who has claim on him." Sarah's foot tingled, and she knew she'd found the active line. "He's not mine, and he's not yours to offer."

"Strip for me, Sarah." Daniels goaded. "Unburden yourself, and I shall show you what Lilith found so fascinating and your friend Bryn could not bear."

"Do you actually think that's inviting?" Sarah inquired with a marked irritation in her tone. "There is nothing attractive, appealing, or even the slightest bit alluring about you." She watched the doctor's face twist in anger. The tingle moved up her feet into her legs. "You're a frog. I've had a king. I'm not about to lower myself to do a frog."

"We'll see about that," he growled as he rushed forward, hand pulling out the needle full of sedatives.

He'd taken only a few steps when Sarah brought her arms upward, palms upraised. He was hit with the full force of the energy she'd plugged into. "Still the same old stunts. Can't get your way, drug em," she watched the man struggle as the web of energy tangled about him.

"How are you doing that?" he snapped. "That's impossible."

"None so blind," a chorus of voices in the darkness chimed in.

Daniels face contorted with pain as the web tightened. "Where are those voices coming from?" he demanded.

"You hear voices?" Sarah asked teasingly. "How odd, do you see anyone here with us?" The man of science was dropped back into his seat as the girl lowered her arms. "I see no one." The tingling went all through her now. "I see only you, the boy, and me."

The doctor still held the syringe in his hand, now dangling limply at his side. "I'll give you the boy," he promised in what sounded like a composed and forthright manner. "I shall allow you to take him back to your parents." His eyes glowed with fire that gave him away. "Won't that be nice, Sarah? uniting with your family again?" He rose from his seat, shakily and moved toward her slowly, syringe in his hand and ready. "I can give all that to you…" He suddenly lunged toward her with an inhuman cry.

Energy encompassed Sarah like a cocoon, and she was protected from his attack. He was thrown back by the force. "You have no power over me!" Sarah roared, looking at the man who more than anything wanted her under his thumb. She heard the boy moan and looked at him over her shoulder. He was waking and there was little time left. Turning back, she moved to stand firmly on the Ley line when she noticed something in the rubble on ground. At her feet were the remains of a leather mask, the twisted feathers of a demon goblin. Stooping down, she scooped up the remains and took a deep breath. "Doctor Daniels," she looked at him as she stood, placing what was left of the mask over her face. "I stand as your judge."

"You?" he glared at her from where he'd fallen. He was bleeding and his clothes were torn from the force with which he'd been hurled into the rubble pile across what was left of the judgment chamber. "What right do you have to judge me!" he demanded.

Sarah took a step off the Ley line, but the energy was still coursing through her veins. "You are guilty of so many hateful crimes," she said in a voice that was authoritative. "Your victims are countless scores of innocents and twice now this boy…"

"You! _**It was you**_…" Daniels gasped. "You pumped me full of those poisons."

"You have abused your position." The woman in the demon mask continued, her voice cracking like a whip. She demanded his attention and had little patience for his reactions and recollections. "We let you off too easy last time. I won't make the same mistake this time," she announced.

Daniels barked at her, "You have no right to judge me!"

"I have every right," she exclaimed feeling blood race in her veins. "I am no longer of this world, foolish man. I belong to the mists and the shadows. I belong to he who has claim on this boy. I am one with the creatures who create nightmares. I am Sarah Williams, and I am the _**Tagaan**__** or Rhuukarlaan**_ of _**Jareth **__**Tuatha Dé Danann Huukec Mec,**__** Warrior King of the Goblin lands of Labyrinthia!"**_

Daniels became aware of the movement of the shapes in the dark. He heard the hisses, and the cackling laughter, and he smelled the strange odors. He looked over at Sarah. "What is this?"

"Justice," Sarah declared. "I thought that you were out of my life, that Toby was out of danger, and you would spend your life babbling in a padded cell. I was wrong, and I know that I have no choice but to end this here and now. Doctor Daryl Dylan Daniels, for your crimes we sentence you to death."

"We? Who is we, Sarah?" he pulled himself up to his knees. "I see only you, and the shadows playing tricks on me."

"Shadows?" she mocked. "See now what shadows hide, you fool." Snapping her fingers, she summoned the goblins out of hiding. They gathered behind her, forming a protective barrier between the deranged man and the child stirring. "We end this now," Sarah said moving forward, "Protect the child," she commanded the forces of goblins behind her.

Daniels had never believed in goblins~ he had jeered those who did. Now faced with a room full the creatures, he could not deny their existence. "Keep back!" he shouted as one looked at him with interest. "What kind of monster are you?" he shouted at Sarah.

"A monster of my own making," Sarah declared. "And one who will take your worthless life."

"I've had too much to drink," he muttered to himself, trying to rationalize this nightmare.

"You've had too much power, which you abused," corrected the girl as she moved forward. "After I've corrected the mistake I made by letting you live, I shall go after the one who set you free." She gripped the man's hair and pulled back his head before she removed the remains of her mask and tossed it aside. "Look at me you fool, and let me tell you why it was you could never treat my so called illness. I have no dreams because they were taken from me. It was the price I paid to win back the child I wished away."

"Wished away?" Daniels echoed.

"I wished that boy there away and regretted it the moment the words left my lips." Sarah hissed as her free hand gripped the man's throat. "I traversed a Labyrinth, through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered to reach the castle beyond the Goblin City; but winning comes at a price. My price was my dreams and I'd pay them again for my brother." Her eyes glowed in the dark, green and blue and gold, afire with power.

"You're insane," he gasped.

"No, Doctor," Sarah gripped the front of his shirt and ripped it open, baring his chest. "Sad to say, I'm not. Pray to whatever God you believe in for mercy, you'll get none from me." Her hand moved down from his throat to the bare chest, forming a claw shape. Her nails dug into the skin and then into muscle. "For your crimes against man and goblin, I Sarah, _**Tagaan**__** or Rhuukarlaan**_ of _**Jareth **__**Tuatha Dé Danann Huukec Mec,**__** Warrior King of the Goblin lands of Labyrinthia,**_ do here by sentence you to death." She shoved her hand deep into the cavity of his chest. His screams filled the air, ending only as she pulled his still beating heart out of the bloody fissure. The eyes of the doctor went glassy and dead, Sarah released his hair and let him drop. She raised the beating heart upward to the cheers of the goblins surrounding her.

The cheers died down, and a few goblins sniffed the air. "Intruder…" one hissed as the others growled.

"Sarah," a voice with a heavy accent whispered near the opening of the ruined building and rubble.

Sarah made a clicking noise with her tongue, her goblin companions hushed. "Who's there?" she asked, still holding the beating heart above her head.

A man stepped into the light, what there was of light, and looked at her with confusion. "Sarah?"

"Yuri," she lowered the heart. "What are you doing here?" Her lips formed a hard line and her eyes were suspicious.

The Russian biker moved forward. "I felt a pull to this place~ from time to time I come here~ to be near… to your spirit." He looked at her companions. "Are you a demon now?"

Sarah looked at her goblin attendants, "No Yuri, I'm no demon. I'm a goblin." She smiled at the goblins at her side. "Does this frighten you?"

"No," he said gently, "It is a~ relief." He sighed deeply. "Lilith kept saying you were taken by goblins. We, who knew, understood and kept it to ourselves." He looked at the ruins of the temple of justice. "You cannot stay here," he said firmly. "You are dead to this world, and so you must remain."

"I would not be here now if Daniels had not gone after Toby again." She looked over her shoulder at the child who was moving groggily. "He should not be here. He must not awaken and see this." She looked back to Yuri. "Help me, old friend, " she asked with deep emotions in her voice.

The Russian sunk to his knees, paying homage to the goblin _**Tagaan**__** or Rhuukarlaan**_, "Did you know that I loved you?" he asked humbly. "That I'd have laid my life down for you?" His voice trembled, his eyes filled with unrequited love for the girl who would forever remain just out of his reach.

Sarah closed her eyes. Had she remained on this side of the mists, there might have been a chance for her with someone. Not Yuri but someone. There might have been a life, children, and home. All the things that she'd lost making one misspoken wish, and refusing her dreams. Green eyes opened and looked at him with compassion and painful sensitivity. "Yuri, if you still feel love for me, then I ask you to dedicate your life to protecting my little brother." She swallowed the lump forming in her throat. "Keep my memory alive for him," she asked pleadingly. "Take him away from this place. Give him back to my father and watch over him."

Raising the big man nodded. "This I can do," he promised walking past her to take the stirring child up into his arms. "I will protect him with my life, and he will never forget you." He cradled the boy against his own heart. "He will remember you." He began to walk past the woman.

"Sarah," Toby uttered in a haze.

"Sleep little prince," Sarah softly whispered, placing a kiss to his forehead. "This has all been a dream," she told the child.

Blue eyes like storms at sea closed peacefully, and the child nuzzled into the Russian biker.

Sarah looked up at Yuri, "Thank you. Now~ go." She watched them leave, knowing it would be a very long time before she'd know the nearness of the little boy again. Behind Yuri were goblins that moved in unison, following the Russian and the boy in his arms. Sarah understood, they would be with him as well. Goblins sent by the King to watch over his boy. Closing her eyes to the painful vision of his exit she felt the heart in her hand, still beating, but slowing down. She looked at it with anger. "Take me home," she ordered the goblins. "I must give this to our King."

--

Yuri placed Toby on the back seat of the car he was driving, opened his cell phone, and called Snake. "I've found Sarah's brother. Call her parents."

"Where?" Snake demanded. "Who had him?"

"It matters not," Yuri said coldly. "The boy is safe. Tell them I'm bringing him home." He closed the cell phone and checked to be sure the child was tucked up in the blanket he carried in his car. "For Sarah," he whispered to the child. "Your guardian angel…." He closed the back door and opened the driver's door. Once he was in the car and gunning the engine, he added. "A goblin guardian angel," he laughed heartily. "Great cosmic joke."

--

Karen was rocking on the couch, tears staining her cheeks as she watched the officers making reports. Robert had answered the phone in his office and came rushing out. "He's been found!" he called out.

Karen sobbed loudly and moved swiftly to her husband's side. "Is he alright?"

"One of Sarah's biker friends found him," Robert nodded. "He's bringing him home." He looked at the officers. "That's all I know."

One of the officers breathed a sigh of relief; he'd feared the worst as there had been no ransom request. He looked over at another officer who was thinking the same thing and they both whispered a little prayer.

--

Yuri drove with purpose and called the police to alert them to his mission. An hour outside the Williams' home town, an escort of state officers on bikes joined him and cleared his path. 'For once,' he thought to himself humorously, 'I'm on the side of law and order. Big cosmic joke!'


	54. Chapter 54

**Chapter 54. Mistress of the lands of the Talagon**

Circe forced all the servants back into the fortress, all that she could find. Once she had them within the walls she cast a binding spell to keep them there. Replacing the garments she'd worn with garments of mourning she sent a declaration of discord against the Goblin King and the Kingdom of Labyrinthia to the council of the High Court. Sighting the murder of her father and the unmerited claim of Talagon being now a Goblin possession, she felt the High King would have no choice but to come down on her side.

"Where are my father's personal guards," she demanded of one of the cowering servants. She was now seated at her father's desk, going through private papers that had been hidden from her.

"They are returning to the fortress, mistress." A voice answered.

Circe leaned back, her beautiful face a stony mask. "Send the captain of the guard to me at once."

--

The members of the council were gathered around the table arguing. Jareth had never been well liked, and his antics over the years had caused more than one member a bit of embarrassment. Oberon didn't usually sit in on council meetings; he found them dull as dust. This meeting he had no choice. For hours now he had listened to a litany of complaints. Only Duke Winderspire had not spoken against the Goblin King. He sat beside the High King listening, and once or twice had looked over at his long time friend to show support. Oberon wondered if these complaints were real, or just these windbags letting lose.

A messenger entered the chamber, followed by the High Queen. When one of the members of the council had tried to take the scroll he'd been rebuffed by the High Queen. The messenger move all the way up to the High King and handed him the scroll with a sad and solemn expression. Oberon opened the scroll and read, lowering the scroll he looked at the members of his council with grief written on his face. "Talagon is dead," he stated.

Those who had been standing and protesting fell wordlessly to their seats. Disbelieve written on faces that had only moments ago been eagerly debating.

"Circe has issued a declaration of discourse," Oberon read on. "She accuses the Goblin King of murder, of crimes against the escheat… and of annexing the Talagon Lands." He looked at his wife. "She's declaring war on the lands of the Goblin in retaliation."

"You must remove the Goblin King," one disgruntled Fae Lord said slamming his hand to the table before him.

"Without hearing his side?" Duke Winderspire gasped outraged. "Unheard of!"

"What do we need to hear," demanded one of the council. "More lies and excuses from the boy king?"

The High Queen's hand found the shoulder of the High King. Oberon placed his hand over the one gripping his shoulder. He understood the silent message his wife was sending.

Duke Winderspire stood up, glaring at the members of the council. "When has he ever lied to this council?"

Both the High King and Queen looked at him with sad understanding, the Duke was still thinking of trying for a match for his daughter.

"He as much as declared war on this body himself," one Fae Lord exploded. "And he's overturned laws that we instituted!" A shiver of revolution passed through the man. "He allows harpies to hunt and feed."

"This bothers you?" Oberon asked coldly.

"It's unnatural!" another exploded. "Harpies should have gone the way of the dodo…."

Oberon had heard the arguments before, from many others including the now late Lord of Talagon. "I see," the High King gruffly answered. "You would have me destroy a species because you don't like them. Because you find them, distasteful or repugnant." The council went silent; shame came to the face of some members. To others came the look of fear. Oberon stood up. "These charges must be investigated, and because I can no long count on this council's being objective, I must now dissolve it." Pulling his robes about him he snarled at them. "You are all dismissed."

"Sire," one Fae lord protested. "You cannot dismiss the council…."

"I formed this council," Oberon reminded them. "And I alone can dismiss it."

"Wait Sire," begged a man at the end of the table. "Perhaps we were a bit hasty…"

"Hasty, Lord Musardseed?" scoffed the High King. "For several mortal generations this council has become more than just hasty…" He looked at the men who had been part of the ruling body of the Seelie Court. "I have known for some time now that Lord Talagon had the ear and heart of more than one member seated here. I had hoped that in time those of you who were influenced by him would see through the fabrications and deceit. This declaration by his daughter is just more of the same." The scroll was sent crashing to the table, "But instead of demanding to see facts and evidence you are demanding the dismissal of a King."

Duke Winderspire looked at his King with consolation. "Talagon's death must be properly investigated."

Mustardseed looked over at the High Queen. "The laws of escheat must be up held." He insisted. "If the Goblin King has taken a Fae life…"

"Sire," a voice from the middle of the council spoke up. "Not all of us were influenced by Talagon." A gentle lord stood up. "Allow us to accompany you, giving at least the impression that this body still exists. You of course have the final say."

Oberon looked at his wife; she didn't seem disturbed by the suggestion. "Lord Cobweb," Oberon addressed the younger Fae Lord. "You served in my wife's throng at one time. Your suggestion has merit." He looked at the distressed members of the council. "I shall hold my judgment on this body, pending the outcome of our investigation. We go to mediate, for if I know the daughter of Talagon, she will not wait on judgment."

--

Circe was looking at the map her father had on his desktop. It showed his plan of conquest, and of the plan to invade and take command of the Goblin lands. She was tracing the outline of the new lands of Talagon when the guard entered. "My lady," he bowed to her.

"Captain Falcor," she looked up at him, "has the attack on the Goblin King's holdings begun?"

Falcor had only just been informed of the death of the once lord of the Talagon. He could see the daughter was wasting no time on mourning, and he smiled at her. "Indeed my lady," he pointed to the map. "I'm not sure how much of the plan you were made aware of. Your father never said." He came around to the back of the desk where the woman sat and bent over the desk. "Before we learned of his death, he had sent the word to begin the invation." He tapped the map. "We will attack here."

"I wish to make a request," she whispered urgently. "I want the King's cousin, the Lord Baron Devon to suffer."

"You wish us to injure him?" the lower level Fae guard frowned. "My lady is that prudent?"

"Not he fool," she tapped her hand on the map. "He keeps a human pet, I want it destroyed."A flash of teeth from the guard was her answer.

--

_**Nodding Jareth motioned for the girl to be seated on the stair of his throne's dais. "Daisy, I will take over for now," he instructed. "I've goblins watching the boy at all times." He reached out his hand, instantly a crystal formed. "Tonti…" he called. "Tonti…" there was no answer, and the crystal remained dark. **_

Jareth lowered the crystal, "We are under attack, Daisy, my lord Baron and his…"

"Moved," Daisy stood with effort, Donatien held her elbow to stable her.

"Good," Jareth could see her color was slightly off, but he knew this was no time to show weakness. "Donatien, I charge you with protecting Tonya." Jareth held a hand out to the Fae woman seated on the steps. "Take her to the training rooms, I'm sending Rosalind to you as well."

"My minions and I will protect your holdings," the Master of the guild said vigorously.

"Jareth," Tonya whispered urgently. "I want to stay with you…."

"No," he said firmly. "You would only distract me, and right now that would be dangerous for," he hesitated and said gently; "You." Placing her hand in that of the Master of the Guild he commanded her quietly. "Do as I bid, Tonya."

"Yes Jareth," she acquiesced.

Della passed a coin toward a smug Daisy. Jareth ignored the payment and looked at his personal guards. "We've visitors coming, prepare." He moved to his throne. He looked into the silent crystal once more, frowning. While the Kingdom was under attack, he'd not be able to communicate with Tonti, but he still hoped.

Daisy drew on inner strength few knew of, she strutted off to bark orders to the troops and fortify the palace. Guards moved with more precision than they had in years, a look of unbridled joy on their faces. Escorts were sent to the representatives of the court to convey them safely to the Goblin Palace.

Della stood beside her counterpart, a smug look on her face as the skies filled with harpies. "So has he told little Miss Winderspire that she's got a bun in the oven?"

"Not yet," Daisy said with a wink. "Care to wager on when or how?"

"Oh you are so on," Della quipped. "I say he just blurts it out and tells her to shut up."

"Far too obtuse and blundering," Daisy informed her partner. "NO, he's going to announce it with a flourish, and if I know the King, he'll wait until he's got the most important of audiences."

"The High King," scoffed Della in a crowing caw.

"None other," Daisy held up a coin.

--

Devon and Bryn followed the escort, the tunnels twisted and turned. Donatien himself had placed them in the care of these members of his sect. Devon had no idea how many Hobgoblins had belonged to the Guild. He was suddenly very reluctant to think how many times he'd simply ignored the natives of this land and their ways. "Gia," he addressed the female leading them. "How is it you know the tunnels?"

"Most Hobgoblins of the Guild know the tunnels, my lord," she answered curtly. "All Hobgoblins of the realm are avowed to protect the Kingdom and the King. For that reason we are trained from our youth to know the kingdom and some of its protected secrets."

"And the common little goblins?" Bryn asked softly.

Gia snickered unkindly. "Most of those little louts could not find their own way thought the Labyrinth…" She paused, and listened. "Hush, someone has breached this tunnel."

In the distance of the tunnel they could hear the false alarms decrying. "This is not the way…"

Gia placed a hand on the wall and opened a hinged bit of rock. "In here," she ordered.

Devon pulled his sword, "If necessary," he told the guild guide.

Gia winked at him, "Are you sure there's no Hob in your back ground?"

Bryn entered the hinged door, "I can answer that," she teased.

--

Jareth paced, it had been hours since his return and still no word on where Sarah was, and no word from Tonti. He knew that the attacks on his boarders were being answered by seasoned Hobgoblins. The circular throne room was filled with his courtiers; they too looked concerned as the sounds of battle were surrounding the palace. Not one had complained about the accommodations. All understood, this battle would end all the reservations and uncertainty of to whom this kingdom belonged.

--

The members of the council were preparing to follow the High King when the shrieking voice of a woman reached their ears. "Murder," it cried, "oh my God of Gods, there has been murder committed."

Duke Winderspire recognized the voice as his own wife's, "Hold Sire that is my wife." He moved swiftly toward the sound. "Dearest, what has happened?"

The Duchess, dressed in a riding habit wore a look of horror on her face. "Our horses, all those beautiful beasts and their grooms…slain… butchered and left… to rot where they fell." She wailed loudly. "Tonya… our Tonya is missing, I found her veil." She held the bonnet and veil in her trembling hands.

Winderspire took the bonnet into his hands, and noticed something his wife's eyes had missed. A spring of strange grass. "This is goblin grass…" he turned to the High King. "Could Jareth have done this?" He regretted the words as soon as they were spoke for it once more renewed the calls of the others on the council for the dismissal of the young king.

Oberon took the bonnet, "We must ask the Goblin King…" He opened a portal and heard the sound of battle. "It would seem Circe didn't wait."

--

The battle cries slowly died down, Jareth stopped pacing to take his place once more on his throne. Goblins in full armor entered the throne room, battle scared and bloodied, and looking victorious. The flags carried by the enemy were dumped in a pile before the feet of King Jareth. Jareth saw the opening of the Seelie Court portal and turned to Daisy. "Looks like things are about to get interesting."

"It was a dull morning," Quipped the Goblin woman.

"No sign of Circe," yawned Della.

"She'll be here," Jareth murmured behind his hand as the members of the Seelie High Council filed into his circular throne room. "I see you've brought the entire council," he waved toward the intruders as he spoke to the High King.

"Where is my daughter," demanded the Duchess her husband pulled her back beside him, glaring at her.

Jareth lifted his hand, a crystal formed and he spoke to it. "Donatien, would you have the ladies in your company join us?"

Oberon opened his mouth to speak, a thunderous roar was heard and Circe suddenly descended upon the Goblin court with a full company of warriors. "High King, I demand that you dethrone this… murderous excuse for a Fae Peer of the realm. He not only sanctioned my father's murder but he has harbored vile creatures that swoop down upon the innocent, and then have the nerve to lay claim to property in the Name of the Goblin Throne." She was dressed in mourning garb. "I demand justice in the name of my Father!"

"And here I thought you were here to beg from Mercy," Jareth pointed to the banners of her army strewed on his floor. "You lost," he smiled threateningly.

Circe looked to see the finest of her officers now in chains and manacles. Shackled together and looking like whipped dogs. "How dare you!" she roared.

"How dare I?" He repeated incredulously as he leaned forward threateningly. "How dare I what? Defend my boarders? Protect my family and servants? How dare I rule?" He sat up, glaring at the woman. "How dare you or anyone else come here and make any demands of me?"

Some of the members of the Seelie Council turned aghast and ashen toward the High King. Before anyone else could get a word in the woman in mourning turned to the High King and demanded again. "Disenthrone this … pretender. And demand that he relinquish my lands back to me. As I am the rightful heir, and therefore I am the Mistress of the lands of Talagon!"


	55. Chapter 55

**Chapter 55. Declarations of a Goblin King**

Jareth laughed at Circe, "I'm not the one who declared war, Circe…you are." He turned to the High King. "I and my subjects just defended what is ours."

"Rubbish!" Circe growled. "You set that harpy upon my father." She pointed to Della. A hiss from above altered the woman that harpies were present. "And he has more of them to bring us down… destroy him and them."

"Silence," Oberon bellowed. He moved forward with fire in his eyes. "I don't take orders from you, Circe. You have issued some very damning accusations," the High King seethed. "Let us see if they hold any weight." Turning to the Goblin King he asked straightforward, "Did your harpy kill Talagon?"

Jareth smiled, "I'm pleased to say she did." The room filled with the sounds of murmurs and low urgent whispers. "However, it was a matter of self preservation," he added.

"Self preservation?" Oberon looked from Jareth to Circe. "Why would a harpy need to commit such an act?" She remained silent, and Jareth said. "I shall allow the harpy to tell her own tale.

"The one called Lord Talagon and some of his servants came here and drugged goats. They knew that goat meat is a favorite of the harpy. They used the goats as bait to trap a harpy, I happened to be the one who fell into their trap. Talagon then near staved me, giving me only enough food to sustain life. His plan was to train me to do his bidding. He considered the harpy to be little better than the beast of the wilderness." Della sauntered forward, unafraid of the High King or any other Fae. "Given the opportunity, I waited, and watched and listened. The old fool boasted of his part in the death of the last true Goblin King. He boasted of the part he and other Fae lords played in the kidnapping, rape and murder of the first human to hold the title_** Tagaan**__** or Rhuukarlaan**_." Della cast a sideways glance at Circe. "Your father could not hold his liquor."

Circe shook her head, "I know nothing of this claim," she denied. "She lies!"

"I have no reason to lie," chuckled Della. "Not when the truth is a far better weapon."

Oberon looked sideways; he saw the squirms of some of the Council. "Go on harpy."

Della spread her wings and let them twitch, knowing it would put fear into those who'd never seen the wingspan of a harpy up close. "He boasted of what he was going to do to this King and to the _**Tagaan**__** or Rhuukarlaan**_ he keeps. When I'd heard enough damning admissions, I broke free of the puny chains he'd placed upon me. And I showed him what justice is. He was responsible for the death of one of my line, and for the shame we bore. I avenged my King, my line and my Flock! And I would do so again."

"She confesses," Circe bellowed. "Destroy the creature," she demanded.

Oberon tapped a long index finger alongside his noise. He was considering something, and looked over to where the Matron of the Flock was perched on a high ledge. "How old is this chick?" he asked her.

"She has reached maturity," Iris crowed.

Oberon whispered something for Della's hearing alone and she cawed. The High King shrugged. He looked over at Circe, "Your father made many claims against goblin lands… and never agreed with those whom I placed to act as regents. I find it all too possible that he did indeed come across the border and plant tainted game for the harpy as bait." He gave the young woman a cold glare. "His death is on his own head, and I will not find the harpy guilty…" the Fae behind him rumbled; "Even if I were in authority to judge her."

The murmurs gave way to silence; even Circe stared at the High King. Oberon shrugged. "This is not a matter for the High Court; we are not in Fae territory…"

"How can you say that?" Circe gasped. "There has always been a Fae presence here."

"No," Oberon looked at Jareth, "There has always been a Goblin presence here, as there should be."

"He's a Fae," Circe accused. "He's sanctioned the harboring of a creature that has broken escheat laws…"

"On the contrary," boasted Jareth looking proudly at Della. "Harpies are not _**Kithain**_, her being the instrument of your father's death does not break escheat."

"You however are _**Kithain**_," a voice declared as a portal opened. Sarah stepped into the throne room. "You are far guiltier of breaking escheat laws than anyone else here, Circe."

Leaning back, enjoying the show, Jareth greeted the new arrival. "I was wondering when you were going to show up," he looked at her hand. "What is that?"

Sarah looked at him, her face calm and tranquil. "It's a present." She said to him moving forward; "The heart of your enemy."

Della huffed, "Don't know a good lunch when you see it, eh Sarah?"

Sarah ignored the comment, moving closer to the King. "He who would have harmed your boy… and I've learned a powerful lesson." She dropped the heart into the hand that was ready to receive it, it was still beating.

"What would be," Jareth asked.

"Never make the same mistake twice," Sarah sneered. "I let him live once before when he tried to kidnap Toby." She squared her shoulders. "I wasn't about to make that mistake again."

"She's bloodied herself," Circe accused. "Human blood is on her hands."

Oberon looked to Jareth who answered the accusation. "The _**Tagaan**__** or Rhuukarlaan**_ is not _**Kithain**_," he watched the heart slow and then stop altogether.

"She's your human pet, and humans are under the Kithain." She looked triumphant. "She will have to be destroyed."

"Sarah's not human," Jareth dropped the heart into the hands of a goblin who had been sitting at his feet. "Sarah's a goblin." He stood up.

Sarah turned to look at Circe, "You should never have counted on Daniels doing your dirty work, foolish woman." Her voice hissed. "Daniels never could do his own, and he liked to talk… loved the sound of his own voice. He spoke of you several times, Circe." Sarah moved threateningly toward her. "You should never have set him upon Toby," she growled. "For that alone I could kill you and do so with a smile."

"She threatens me, and I've done nothing." Circe claimed.

"You were the one who sent me into the human realm," Sarah accused. "You entered my tower in a disguise and disabled my guard." Sarah spoke slowly, deliberately. "You removed me from the tower by means of a winged horse."

"I don't own such a beast," boasted Circe, "The one female here about who does is Tonya Winderspire; perhaps it was she who set you free."

"I saw through the glamour Circe," Sarah claimed as a gasp was heard from above.

"You stole my steed, slaughtered my father's herd, and tried to incapacitate me!" Tonya accused as she came down from the safety of where she'd been held. "I'll swear before the Seelie court that you did!"

Jareth took hold of the Fae girl's hand and pulled her back away from Circe with a smile. "I'm sure she didn't expect you to find a way to free yourself. Now behave and stay put." He pinched her cheek playfully. The Duchess would have moved forward to reclaim her daughter, but her husband and the High King were barring her way. Jareth looked at Circe. "Your finished Circe, not one of these Fae here will defend you."

The woman saw that he was right; she pulled a knife and lunged at Jareth. She screamed that he would never find Devon in time to save him. In a flash Della, Daisy and Sarah were all upon her. Della hand the hand with the knife pinned to the floor, Daisy had the other hand pinned and Sarah was seated upon Circe's chest with her hands at the woman's throat.

"Devon?" the High King asked, but seeing Jareth smile Oberon's expression toward the woman was one of little interest. "Do what you will," he said to the Goblin King.

"Sarah, what sentence should I pronounce?" Jareth asked quietly.

Sarah smiled down into Circe's eyes. "I know of a place of hopelessness," she said. "Take her powers and bind them, force her to live out her madness in the mortal realm. Unable to use that which is most natural to her…"

A crystal formed in his hands as Sarah spoke, he placed it on Circe's brow and the woman vanished. As she did a hatch opened and Devon and Bryn entered the throne room.

Winderspire drew a relieved sigh, "Nasty business that," he commented lightly. He looked at his wife. "We should go home," he extended a hand toward his daughter. "Come Tonya, we will take our leave."

Tonya stood up but looked at Jareth. The Goblin king shook his head, and she didn't move. "I'm afraid I will have to insist that your daughter remain here." Jareth stroked the cheek of the girl gently. "She belongs to me, now."

"Belongs to you," Winderspire sputtered before turning to the High King. "What is this?"

"I don't know," confessed the High King. "Jareth what are you doing?"

"Establishing my dynasty," Jareth said calmly. "Tonya belongs to me."

The Duchess twittered, "A marriage with the Royal family is fine with me."

"No," Jareth said coldly turning to the woman. "There will be no marriage, and your daughter will never wear the title of Queen."

The woman sputtered before turning to her husband. "Do something!" She was near croaking on her words. "Before he despoils my baby…."

Tonya lowered her head slightly, "Jareth, please… she's my mother…"

"Hush," he reprimanded her gently. "Leave this to me." She looked up at him and nodded. He turned to the Duke. "Your daughter is a living bond betwixt me and the Seelie court, and her child will be a living link." He looked at the Duchess for a moment and said firmly. "I've planted my seed, and I claim Tonya as a consort, not a wife, not a queen but not by any means a whore. She will remain here, with me and mine." Sarah came to stand beside the King, Rosalind stood behind her. They were flanked by Goblins subjects.

"Tonya," Duke Winderspire gasped. "Is this true?" Tonya bit down on her lower lip and nodded. The old Duke looked at the High King, "Can you not reason with him?"

"Not this time," Oberon said with regret. "He's following an older rule than that of the Fae."

"Older than the Fae?" Winderspire asked. "What rule is older than ours?"

"That of the Goblin," Jareth answered for Oberon. "As the heir promised to the Goblins, I am reestablishing Goblin Rule."

"When did you find out?" Oberon asked his son.

"Not long after a certain woman left me and my kingdom in shambles." Jareth answered. "Though it took some time for it all to sink in."

Oberon nodded, "I am glad you learned this way," wistfully he looked at the child that had been born of a moment of weakness. "Your Grandfather was a remarkable Hobgoblin, may you be just half the man he was."

The Duchess broke down in tears. "She should have been a queen."

"Tonya," Jareth sighed. "Take your place."

She turned expecting to stand beside the King, looked at Sarah and frowned. "Jareth," she whispered urgently. "Shouldn't she stand down, and let me have the place beside you? After all she's but a slave…"

"No," Jareth said strongly. "Sarah's place is at my side, she is the _**Tagaan**__** or Rhuukarlaan**_ and she comes first."

"A slave comes first," Tonya asked.

Jareth looked over at Oberon, "Who translated the Goblin language? Everyone who hears that term misreads it." He looked gently at the Fae girl. "Tonya, Sarah is the price of peace with the above, you are the price of peace with the Fae."

The girl looked over at the Fae woman with red hair. "And her?" she asked still not taking her place.

"A worthy servant to the King," he assured her. "Take your place behind Sarah."

Once the girl had moved to stand behind Sarah Jareth looked at the members of the Seelie Council. "I am willing to keep communications with the Fae open. I am not however going to allow you to tell me how to rule. I will consider the next infraction a declaration of war." He faced them down. "There are dark days ahead; the world above and the world below are connected. You've allowed us to become a joke while you squabbled over who gets what, and who has power. The goblin realm is no longer going to be your whipping boy. My kingdom does not need you, but you and the realm of man need us. So you will learn to respect the Goblins and all the subjects of my kingdom."

He looked at the beaten army of Talagon. "I offer you your freedom," he said loudly. "Under the condition that you serve me, and remember that the Talagon was once Goblin Lands… given to the High King as a marriage price." He looked at Oberon. "The price was paid, and the lands return as they were meant to." Crossing his arms he smugly said. "This audience is at an end. And you are dismissed."

Oberon chuckled. "Well said, boy well said." He turned to his council. "Let's go home, we are not needed here."

Jareth looked over at Devon, "None the worse?"

"You owe me new boots," Devon said tossing his at the King. "One of your false alarms was hungry." He walked barefooted to where his cousin stood. "Delivering ultimatums again I see."

"It worked," chuffed the King, the members of his personal court joined in the laugher. "Court members may go home," he said gently. "Don't mind the bodies; the cleaners will be making pickups." He strolled to his throne and took a seat.

"This is not your throne, is it?" Tonya asked softly coming to his side and picking at a lose thread on the draping.

"This is a working throne, the other is for show," he patted her face. "Be a good girl and go with Rosalind, she'll show you to your rooms. I'll speak with you later."

Bryn walked over to Sarah, "I've missed you," she enfolded her in her arms; "Oh Sarah."

"Bryn," Sarah pulled back quaking with pain. "Sorry." Shuddering violently she eased back. "I've missed you too."

Devon leaned on the throne and smiled at his cousin, "So what's on the agenda next, scale a mountain, declare war on the trolls?"

"Take an elf princess," Jareth said placing a gloved finger to his lips. He saw the look shot his way by Sarah and changed the subject, "What kind of wedding and when?"

"He hasn't asked me yet," Bryn said boldly. "I don't know that I'm of a mind to say yes."

Jareth snickered. "I could order you to," he teased.

"He won't," Sarah assured her friend.

Della bowed to the throne, "I'll be taking my leave of you now, Sire."

"Leave, you've just returned, why do you need to leave?" Jareth looked at her oddly.

"She has a nest to feather," the Matron announced.

Jareth looked at his guard and pouted. "And here I thought I'd get first crack at you."

"Promises promises," Della said wickedly placing a hand over her belly. "This is the first time a harpy has mated with a Fae. It will be an unusual gestation. I am to be watched over by the flock."

Iris leaned close to Della and her pride shown like a thousand suns. "My daughter did well, did she not Sire?"

"She did indeed," He looked at the harpy who had served him for a few years. "Della, you and your daughter will always have a home here in the Goblin castle, not just in the Goblin Kingdom." He snickered. "There are enough Fae here who will be more than willing to tutor the child in her Fae heritage."

"She'll be a harpy first and foremost." Della said and bowed once more to the King. "Live long, and don't get into trouble while I'm away, King baby."

"Go feather your nest," he teased.

Della turned to Daisy, "Don't go taking on any partners while I'm gone, except for that one," she winked toward the Master of the Guild. "Oh I have a little gift for the bride to be." she pulled a clothe from her harness. "Something for you to remember me by."

Daisy opened the package and looked up with a smile, "Della you shouldn't have," she laughed heartily. Lifting one item she showed it to the king. "A new purse for my winnings," The King winced recognizing the purse as a scrotum sack. Daisy looked at the item under purse and looked over at Della. "I shall wear them on my wedding day."

"Let me know where and when, and if I'm not sitting on an egg, I'll be there." Della promised. She looked over at the Hobgoblin who was standing closest to her partner. "Take care of her, or you'll need to watch out for me."

"Captain Bookworm will have no complaints," Donatien assured her.

Della paused before leaving, she stood before Sarah. "So long hag,"

"Goodbye, parakeet." Sarah quipped.

Della flashed her nails and talons at Sarah, who didn't even flinch this time. "Next time Sarah, eat the heart."

"Wasn't mine to eat," Sarah said. "I'm mealy the messenger." She sighed, "Hurry back, and stay safe."

Della smiled and let out a caw, the members of the flock who were present in the throne room answered. One by one they moved out the window, soaring into the sky.

Jareth looked down at the heart still being held by a goblin. "So what did you use, a knife, a spoon, perhaps a scoop?" he directed his question to Sarah.

"My hand," the girl answered coming to look at the object. "He had it coming, dirty bastard." She flexed her fingers and growled.

Bryn looked down. "What is that?"

"Daniels heart," Sarah answered factually. "He kidnapped Toby, took him to the asylum ruins. Gods and Goddesses only know what he planned to do to the child."

Without flinching the Welsh witch looked down. "May he rot in hell;" She spit and the goblin holding the heart dashed out of the way.

"I'm going home," Devon announced. "I plan to sleep a week, perhaps two." His hand extended outward toward Bryn. "Come darling," he invited.

Sarah watched as they walked out of the throne room, "He loves her," she muttered.

"Yes," the King's voice was at her ear. "And I doubt she'll ever turn down his offers."

Sadly Sarah turned to look at him, her green eyes calmer, but still stormy. "She doesn't have to balance a child in the equation."

Jareth had not moved his face mirrored hers. "How is our boy?" He asked slowly.

"He'll not remember, he was unconscious, drugged." She winced remembering having to leave him yet again. "But he's safe; Daniels will never go after him again." She met eyes with the Goblin King and informed him. "I have no regrets… about killing him."

Breathing in her scent, he could believe it. "No one has the right to touch what belongs to us," he agreed.

"The council, they will tell the High King that I am dangerous." She sighed.

"You are," he stated.

"They will call for my execution." Her tone darkened.

"They have no jurisdiction," he assured her. "Besides, you carry my son."

"How do you know that the baby Tonya carries is not a son, or Rosalind?" Sarah walked past him. "Any one of us…"

"No Sarah, only you." He walked behind her, in her wake. "You are the only one who will give me sons; the others will supply daughters for me to marry off to other kings, to secure ties."

"That's cold blooded," Sarah denounced.

"It's what Kings do," Jareth stated.

"Most kings don't build a harem," she argued softly.

"That's true," he reasoned. "However most kings don't have three to four lifetimes to live out." He placed a hand on her arm. "You have been through much this day. Go to your tower," he looked at Daisy "Captain," he motioned the injured Goblin forward. "Take the _**Tagaan**__** or Rhuukarlaan**_ to her tower." The two women faced each other, one goblin born, one goblin made, and they smiled.

The Master of the Guild stood beside his King. "Remarkable women," he commented.

"Indeed," Jareth agreed. "Is a date set?"

"Not as of yet," the Master sighed. "There is much for us to accomplish with the Kingdom, and it's King."

Jareth looked at the circular room. "We have a foot hold my friend, something we didn't have before."

"Perhaps in time you could offer your mother a sanctuary here," Donatien suggested.

"I will take that into consideration," Jareth leaned back into the throne, hooking one foot into the arm. "Now about this elf you want me to deflower…"

_********_

"What's he doing?"

"Reading,"

"Has he said anything?"

"Not since he mentioned something about tying her gut into knots, six ways to Sunday."

"Has he thrown anything?"

"Not yet, he just… quiet."

"Oh that's so not good."

"Shouldn't someone warn the Scribe?"

"I'm not going to!"

"Me either!"

"Well I can't, she's barred me from coming into her office…"

"She wrote it, let her worry about it!"

"Oh, oh… he's stopped reading and he's grumbling again."

**#**

Jareth soared into the open window of the tower; he looked at Daisy asleep on the cot beside Sarah. He sat down and watched for a few moments. His soul ached, and he could not find what he needed here. He soared out of the window once more and headed to the crystal portal that would transport him to the world of man.

He glided on the wind past the park and toward the far end of town. Landing in the branches of a tree that stood beside an old Victorian house. Peering in the window he watched as the mother and father sat on either side of the boy's bed, protecting him and showering him with love. The feral eyes of the bird spotted the man seated in a car across the street. He didn't belong here, and looked out of place. But having Fae sense Jareth even in owl form could read the man. He was there because of an oath he'd given. He was there to watch over the boy.

He knew the child would be safe. He would grow and would become a man. He was safe.

Taking flight once more Jareth returned as he had come.

--

Sarah awakened to the sounds of wings flapping and Jareth winging his way back into the tower room. Daisy stirred and moaned. "Sleep Daisy," Sarah whispered. "It's just the king," she rose from the bed. "She was injured, did you know?"

"I've just been informed," he addressed her formally. "I've come to send her to the infirmary and to take you to the castle." Jareth looked over toward the sleeping goblin. "I'm told she crawled out the window, and nearly fell to her death."

"She's the bravest Goblin I've ever met," Sarah nodded. "She stood up to Circe." Sarah whispered. "She doesn't like to feel she's being given special treatment, you know."

"Sharing a bed with you," the King teased. He knelt down beside the bed. "Daisy, you can go home now…." He suggested gently. "I'm taking Sarah to the castle."

"I'm on duty," she muttered sleepily.

"You're all done in," Jareth helped her up. "Donatien is awaiting you, the west wing…" He walked her to the window, "Go rest, you've earned it."

"Good night, sire." She yawned. "Good night Sarah," she whistled and the griffin appeared.

After the goblin guard had been dispatched, Sarah looked about the room, "So I'm not the first human _**Tagaan**__** or Rhuukarlaan**_."

"No," Jareth said quietly.

"Tell me the truth, Jareth," she challenged. "Is having the same as wanting?"

Stormy eyes regarded her, and at first it appeared he was going to ignore her question. Then in a heartbeat he changed his mind. "Not always."

"I had to face a truth in the asylum," she sat down on her cot. "I had to face and shoulder my… guilt… my part in Toby now being more or less a Goblin possession." She looked up at Jareth. "It's my fault, not yours that he was wished away, and it's my fault that Bryn is here as well."

"Truth hurts a bit, doesn't it," he asked keeping his distance.

"Hurts like hell," Sarah winced. "Jareth, if I'd broken open the orb…"

"The dreams would not have returned to you even if you could find a way to shatter the orb." Jareth admitted. "And if your friend Lilith had succeeded in murdering me, the dreams would have died with me."

Burying her face in her hands Sarah groaned. "Is it enough?" She spoke into her hands. "Is it payment enough?"

"No," Jareth whispered. "It will never be enough."

Sarah looked up, "Why then, why have children with me… you don't love me…"

"No," he said taking a seat beside her. "I did once, passionately…" He reminded her. "No other runner ever reached the castle," his voice filled with awe. "You were my equal…. In will, in strength, in stubbornness… in all things."

"I was a child," she protested.

"So was I," he looked away. "So was I."

"Fine mess we've made of things," Sarah muttered. "I can't bear to be touched by mortals, even now."

"I'll not regret what I did, Sarah." Jareth stood up. "Fortunately there are few humans whom you'll come into contact with. I suggest you steer clear of them." He snapped his fingers. "Come _**Tagaan**__** or Rhuukarlaan**_, your king is tired, and wishes to sleep in his own bed." He moved toward the window.

"I won't share a bed with the other women, Jareth." She stated. "I'm not that modern."

"You'll do what you are told to do," he crossed his arms.

"You wouldn't want to make a wager on that now would you?" Sarah scowled.

Jareth dropped his arms, and looked at her. "I'm willing to offer you a~ comprise. I shall not bed any of the other women in the royal bed."

"So far so good," she cocked her head to one side, "What do you want from me in return, Goblin King."

He leaned toward her. "Cooperation."

"I'm having your child, is that not cooperation enough?" She saw his hunger. "How can I ever trust you, you took my dreams."

Jareth pulled her into his arms, savagely assaulting her mouth with his. He kissed her breathless, once she was as aroused as he, the King spoke again. "Foolish woman… I am your dreams…"

Gasping for air, Sarah moaned.

**Fin**


	56. Chapter 56

**Chapter 56. The summons**

**He **sat in the throne room brooding when she was escorted in to see him."He's in a wicked foul mood," one of the goblins hissed at her.

"And it's your fault!" the other accused.

She muttered darkly under her breathe something about fiction being just that… fiction.

He looked up, his eyes like storms at sea. "Out," he said in a low, barely audible tone.

"But," one of the goblins bobbed up and down. "We want to watch…"

One flash of the King's eyes was enough to send the two escorts scurrying out of the room. He sat upright, tapped his fingers on the side rail of the great throne before he stood up and walked with grace over to the keg that was still leaking on his floor. He found a tankard beside the keg that didn't look too dirty. Shook it out and filled it, before he offered it to the woman. She hesitantly took it, and thanked him. He found a second tankard and after shaking it out also filled it as well.

"Goblin ale is not something for the fainthearted," he warned before he clinked his tankard against hers. "_**Here's to them... brought us this far And to them we've yet to see,  
Them that made us what we are, And them that we will be."**_ He said with a bit of humor.

She looked at him, then at the drink in her hand. "_**Sláinte**_" she countered and took a long drink.

After he lowered his tankard he looked her in the eye. "Did you get it out of your system?"

She knew he was referring to her latest tale. "It's just a story," she protested weakly.

"Did you get it out of your system?" He repeated a bit more dryly.

"Yes," she sipped the ale again.

"Good." He took a long drink, and added. "I don't want to go through this again."

The Scribe looked at him, "I can't promise that."

He took a long breath and sighed. "Warn me next time."

"That I can do," she agreed.

"I'd rather read stories about my brother trying to woe Sarah then read something like this from your pen again." The King stated.

"I had to get it out of my system…." she muttered.

"Some things should be left unsaid," he suggested with a veiled threat.

"I'll give it consideration," she promised.

"Go home," the King said softly. "Before I forget we have a truce."

The scribe didn't have to be told twice she moved quickly out of the presence of the King and counted her blessings. She knew that his father's fondness for her was one of the things that protected her. "Ink, Blot, he's sending me home…"


End file.
